


Rude Awakenings

by NocturnexSins, talinatera



Series: Awakenings Verse [1]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-05
Updated: 2016-05-07
Packaged: 2018-04-24 22:38:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 15
Words: 26,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4937812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NocturnexSins/pseuds/NocturnexSins, https://archiveofourown.org/users/talinatera/pseuds/talinatera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stardate: -51795.899 (10:13:22PM April 1st, 2259)<br/>The Botany Bay, was discovered by Starfleet, with 73 people aboard in cryosleep. Only one man was awoken.<br/>Upon the realization as to just who had been escaped notice for over millennia, Commander Marcus has found exactly what he needs to ensure that Starfleet is no longer passive, and create the war that will cement his legacy, forever.<br/>Khan's given an ultimatum. Design and build a starship, that can outgun and fly anything ever created within 2 years. If he fails, his family, all 72 of those also found within the Botany Bay, will die. Forced to reside with the same Doctor that revived him, a beautiful, brilliant woman who equally infuriates and intrigues Khan, for she is to be his wife, not his warden.<br/>But Khan believes that to truly live, one must welcome adversity, and overcome it. But not without getting revenge in the process.</p><p>IMPORTANT:<br/>Written by NocturnexSins, & Talinatera (KhanxHarrison). Beyond fixes for continuity & minor grammar mistakes, this is posted, as written. A work in progress, posted on Tumblr & Skype. Each chapter will be created &/or added too whenever possible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

RaMinah's POV:  
    Khan’s first memories would be disjointed, distorted. Hearing voices while at the bottom of a pool, far far away. Words, that would touch his mind, yet skitter away once again, making no sense to his muddled thoughts.  
  
_“…hypospray…”_  
    “……….. **outdated** technology…”  
    “……..induced **coma** …”  
    “… **hide** the others…”  
    “………..a **week** …”  
    “ …………………constant **guard** …”  
  
    A hand, soft, gentle brushed hair back from his forehead, was he last sensation, Khan perceived before darkness claimed him, for another seven days. Rebuilding his muscles, which had atrophied, while he lay in a medically induced coma.  
    Now the eighth day had come.  
    “Wake him up.”  
    “It will take at least another three weeks, to continue rebuilding his muscles. He’s an Augment, yes but he is not a God! He was in a cryotube for over 300 years, Gaea knows what else has been done to him, it was only supposed to be for a decade not–”  
    “Yes, and that is why you have been ‘assigned to be his guard, doctor and wife, Dr. Jahan to ensure your patients safety, and our own at all times. Now, **Wake. Him. Up!** ”  
    A sigh, clearly under duress, a hypospray was set to Khan’s throat, giving him the medication to revive him from sleep so that he could be given his first order, and threat personally, from Commander Marcus himself.  
    “Leave.”  
    “I am not leaving my patient..!”  
    “Leave, or I will shoot you down and call you a terrorist, and a traitor to the Federation, and Starfleet. I’m quite sure your family, and India itself, will feel nothing but shame attached to your memory forever after.”  
    “I will remember this, _Commander_ Marcus. And if you ever lay on my table, I might very well, forget my oath!” Footsteps, then silence, as Marcus stood at the foot of Khan’s bed, waiting for him to awaken.

 

Khan's POV:  
     He lingered just on the edge of consciousness, not awake by any definition, but also not asleep. At least not asleep like he had been… He heard words float through the air and he just could not make any sense of them. They might as well have been another language entirely. Maybe they were… He felt a light touch across his head then fell back into that deep sleep once again.    
     A dull memory of what he could only describe as a pin prick was the next thing he felt. It was as if he had been poked while asleep and this was merely the after sting. His brows creased slightly as he started to hear voices… above him. Someone was… not happy. Of course the other voice did no sound like a bucket full of cheerful either.   
     Before thinking he opened his eyes, slowly blinking as they took in the colors and lights around him. Where was he? He felt as if his mind was trying to push its way through a mud pit with how slow it was moving. His eyes finally rested on the man at the foot of his… bed?  He frowned and tried to push himself up, and his eyes widened a moment as he found his limbs… shaking; and he collapsed back down to his original position. What was going on? He tried to remember what had happened, how he had gotten where he was but he could remember nothing. Nothing at all,.   
      His eyes snapped back to the man at the foot of the bed. As Khan laid there he could feel his heart pounding much harder than it should be. Found his entire body felt like it had not moved for too long; his limbs heavy and not listening to him. He found his breath coming in short gasps, and the more he concentrated on his body the shallower his breathing became… Breath… in…. out… in… out… Simple first, his name was…. He closed his eyes once more. Just calm your mind Khan and it will…   
      They snapped back open. That was it. Khan. That was his name. He tried once more to move and successfully pushed himself into a more upright position. Why did his body feel so sluggish? So… non responsive? He licked his lips then finally asked, “Where am I?” It was much softer then he would have liked, but still carried the memory of power and strength.

 

RaMinah's POV:

    Commander Marcus stood up straight, staring down at Khan with a look of triumph. “Where you are, doesn’t matter. What matters, is that I know who you are, Khan, and if you want to protect the 72 others, we found you with, you will do exactly as I say.”  
    And as Khan was forced to do nothing but lie there and listen, Marcus laid out a very specific plan, to create the war he’d always wanted.

* * *

    Hours had passed since that time, before she was finally able to enter, to see Khan. She didn’t ask how he was, she just walked up to him and began to take readings. All the while clearly incensed that all of this was happening in the first. Her intention had been to keep Khan under an induced coma until he awoke at full health, thus helping him acclimate to his surroundings easily, and accomplish his task, quickly. A task that sickened her but as a Starfleet Officer, she was helpless, to do anything about it.  
    A damp cloth was lifted to wipe away the sweat that had formed on his face and neck. She did not speak in English, but in Hindi. “Do not strain yourself, you are still weak. I am Dr. RaMinah Jahan. I will be your personal physician during your …duty, to Starfleet, as well as other duties I sadly must perform as per my orders, that I cannot refuse.  
    “I am afraid I must put you back into an induced coma, so that I can continue rebuilding your atrophied muscles, to bring your body back up to its usual standards. Once you are awakened in three more weeks, you will be back to how you were before you were put in stasis.” Her eyes searched his face after setting the cloth aside, once his skin was cleaned off.  
    “I had hoped to avoid this, I understand it is very frustrating and confusing and that you are very angry. I promise I am here to help you and your own, not hinder you in your work. I do not ask for you to trust me. I will prove it.” As she stood beside the bed she never let her gaze waver from his own. To look away meant she was untruthful. She had nothing to hide. “Are you hungry?”

 

Khan's POV:  
     Khan remained silent and still as the new person came in. The threat Marcus had made… the threats against his family… How had it come to this? They were supposed to wake up together on their ship. They were supposed to wake up once everything had died down on earth and they could look for a new home without worry of human interference, and yet there he was. In a position that was arguably worse than last time. He had been told a great deal of time had passed since he had gone to sleep last time, but besides that he knew nothing else of the place he was in. He knew he was not in good health, that he had been asleep for too long. Much too long. But he knew that based off the signals his body was giving him. Of course he also knew that no one could be trusted.   
     He flinched as he felt a cool cloth come in contact with his skin and he finally looked at the woman who had walked in. His brows creased as he realized what language she was speaking and though he would not admit it he was thankful for it. It gave him a sense of ease to hear his chosen tongue. So… Marcus worked for, or perhaps lead this thing called Starfleet; and she worked for that company. Any ‘points’ she had gained due to her knowledge of Hindi were swept to one side at that information.   
     It was one thing to threaten people who were awake and able to defend themselves, it was another entirely to threaten 72 lives of unconscious people. he gave an annoyed snort as she mentioned that she realized how upsetting this situation was. About how angry he was. If he had been at full health he would have snapped her neck and… and what? He closed his eyes. He did not know where he was, how to move about the earth. He did not even know the year it was outside these walls. He did not know where they were keeping his family, or the layout of his current location. There were too many things he did not know. The only thing he did know was that he was now little more than a slave to these people. Forced to do their biding because of the cards they held over him.   
      He did give her some credit though as she held his gaze. At least she believed herself to be doing right by him in her own twisted way. He was the one who finally turned his head from her and looked back up to the ceiling. Then she asked him a question. Was he hungry? He tried to wrangle his thoughts in and focus on his stomach alone. Yes, if he thought about it he was very hungry. But what was the point in eating if she was just about to put him under again? So he gave a quick shake of his head, indicating that he was not hungry. He wished the next three weeks would pass by slowly, so he would not have to deal with the mess he had woken up to. Out of the frying pan and into the fire. That pretty much summed up his position right then. 


	2. Chapter 2

RaMinah's POV:  
   "Yes ..well ..I understand that as I am less than superior, I am a doctor and by my hand, I will make you well again. You must help yourself, so that I can help you.“ Turning away she touched a series of buttons on a screen, watching a door open, showing a meal that was heavy in protein, that being a massive, thick Ribeye steak, with fried eggs and garlic mashed potatoes. Setting that in front of him, as well as his favourite beer from India. No surprise they continued to make it even today.  
   A large bowl was set on the tray in front of him, including various fresh fruits. A banana, apple, three tiny oranges, grapes, whole strawberries. "Eat as much as you can. It will help rebuild your muscles. If you need me, then use this. Press this tree times, pause then tree times again. That will call me personally. For a nurse, just press it once, and hold it for three seconds.”  
   There was a light shake of the bed, as it was slowly lifted so that he was sitting up, properly. The remote for the television, was set at on the tray as well. “I will return in two hours.” With that she left Khan alone to eat at his leisure without anyone to witness his current, shaky state. While Khan would be strong enough to feed himself, to visit the lavatory, beyond that he would feel far too exhausted to even consider going anywhere except back to his own bed.

 

Khan's POV:  
     Khan watched as the food seemed to appear before him, though it was the beer that truly caught his eyes. Was that really… he could hardly believe that he was allowed to drink it, but he was very pleased that he would get to. A feeling that he did not think he would feel again in the foreseeable future. Then his attention was caught by the fruits set close enough for him to take what he pleased. He quirked an eyebrow wondering how she knew how much he needed to eat in order to do what she hoped.   
     He slowly nodded his head showing understanding to what she told him then watched silently as she left him alone. He was grateful that no one would be there to see him for the first time in a while. He knew it would be a bit of a chore to carry out the simple task. Not impossible by any means but would certainly not be as easy were he at full health. He picked up the remote and turned it on, then flipped through the channels until he found one that appeared to be the news. Then he took a breath and started to eat the… well feast before him. He had not seen this much food since before the revolution.   
      He started in on the fruit first, deciding to test the waters as it were. When the fruit seemed to be accepted by his stomach he started in on the main course, his mouth watering as he tasted it. He was very glad to be eating, albeit rather slowly. He was told that hunger was the best seasoning for any food, and with the way the food tasted to him right then he would believe the saying. To his taste buds he had never had anything that tasted so good. He finally took a swallow of his favorite beer and was pleased that it was still as strong as it had been and sent a small chill down the back of his throat.   
     He paused in his feasting when the news finally showed the date. No… that could not possibly be right. He watched the channel closely, trying to see if it was a hoax of some kind, but it looked legitimate. He had not been asleep for a few decades, or even a century. He had been asleep for three centuries… He looked down at his hands as the news sunk in. Three hundred years? How was that even possible?  He flexed his hands, and reevaluated his body with this new information. For roughly three hundred years… he was in pretty good shape. He shook his head and scoffed. Three hundred years and the humans still had not changed.   
     He picked back up with his slow eating, watching the hour news as he did so. About half way through his meal, he had the sudden urge to relieve himself in the loo and put everything to one side and shakily got to his feet. He clenched his jaw as the urge to sit back down washed over him and he clenched at the closet thing to keep himself upright. Never had he felt so… weak. He scowled and started to make his way to the lavatory, ashamed how much he had to rely on other objects to support himself in the journey there and back.   
     It was on the way back to the bed that he finally lost his footing and collapsed to the floor in a jumbled mess. He bit his lip as his body screamed that it was not okay, and what was he thinking stupid man. He stayed still a moment, just focusing on breathing before he started to untangle himself and stretch out on the ground. His breathing was coming in deep gasps, and his heart was racing. He sighed and placed an arm over his eyes. Maybe he could just sleep here. Here was good, he did not need a nice fancy bed to sleep in. The ground was perfectly comfortable in its own way. Slowly his breathing evened out and his heart slowly back down, and he decided to try and move back to the bed once more. After all he was almost there anyways.   
      His first attempt to get back up ended with him back on his knees the world spinning around him. The next attempt got as far as almost pushing up off the ground but ended much like the first attempt. Finally he managed to pull himself up and staggered to the bed and eased himself back into it. He closed his eyes and just basked in the rather weak accomplishment, allowing himself to view it as a victory. Then he reached out with his other hand and picked up another piece of fruit and started to eat on it, no longer hungry for any of the main dish that might have been left.   
     He glanced at the TV and noted that he had managed to kill most of the two hours between eating and his little escapade to the loo. He figured that the doctor would be back within the half hour to put him under, so he grabbed the remote and started to flip through the channels to find something more entertaining to watch.

 

RaMinah's POV:  
    When she arrived, it was with a nurse, who did nothing but take the dishes away, at least those he had finished. She said nothing, about what had happened to him. She had seen him fall, his exhaustion, which while unfortunate, had been necessary. She had to understand, see first hand exactly how much damage had been done to his body. More than he understood. It should have been repairing itself, regenerating. But it was not. She now, understood why.  
    Khan, was the oldest, longest lived man suffering from long term starvation in history.  
    With his slight build, weight, she was sure it was because his body had been eating itself away, even under stasis. This, was its only means of survival. The ancient technology used to keep Khan under, was only to be used for a few years, at most. No decades.. not centuries. Which was why the results, were so devastating.  
   The food, she had given him, was a means for his body to feed on it, not, on his own muscle, fat, and other tissues. He would be fed, via a feeding tube as much protein as possible, and would not only build up his atrophied muscles, he would have a bigger muscle structure than before. It would take months, years for his body to stop trying to eat away on itself. She had to give him, the best chance possible to survive.  
   As a doctor, it was what she did best. However her actions, would never be revealed to Starfleet. They, deserved no sympathy, no loyalty from her. Perhaps they had in the past, but not now, when her own Legend, the leader of her people in the best time of India’s history lived, and his life, was in her hands.  
   Figuratively …and literally.  
   Setting the tray down, she stood beside Khan’s bed, watching his face. She had been instructed to give certain information before she put him under. Pah. Instructed? Forced. Threatened, her own family at risk, now not just herself. However, she decided not to tell him. At least, not just yet. She would tell him when he awakened. Perhaps then, when he was fully healed he might be more amiable towards Commander Marcus’ intentions on keeping him ..tame. Gods, they were pawns in a game of chess played by madmen.  
   "Is there anything else you needed before I begin your treatment, my Khan?“ Arranging the hypospray in order, not looking up at him. Not, realizing what she’d said. Not that it would have surprised her. She’d been raised, by his teachings since she could speak. He was a Legend yes but a living Legend, all of which said one day, he would return and rule again. Only to be ruled over instead by a Tyrant only wishing for a war. It wasn’t to be born.

 

Khan's POV:  
     Khan said nothing as they entered again. Not even looking as one took away the dishes. He laid fully back down in the bed, now fully understanding he was going no where any time soon. He flipped the tv off and set the remote back where he had gotten it then look up at the ceiling. He was so confused by why his body felt so exhausted. He had been told that he might feel a little shaky at first but nothing like this had been explained to him.   
     Only when he heard the last two words did his head snap towards her, eyes narrowing. Only his family had spoken those words to him. His family and the few humans who had remained loyal to him every after the revolution against the augments. Needless to say, it should have been a phrase long since dead. Or at least, he should never have heard those words again from anyone before his crew was awakened.   
     He swallowed and ran his tongue over his lips before he finally said something to her. “ _ **No**_.” His eyes looked over her face trying to decide what she meant by her words. Was this some play of… Starfleet’s to try and make him feel comfortable around this woman? Well he would not be so easy to deceive! It would take more than knowledge of his history to fool him. He turned his head back to the ceiling and waited for the darkness to claim him once again. 


	3. Chapter 3

RaMinah's POV:  
   As her eyes met his, she bit her lip, looking down once more. Remembering her families edicts. They had followed Khan all their lives and would even if he was dead. But to know he was alive, had her equally shocked, happy and dreading her current situation. He held little to no trust of her and well …as she was considered part of Starfleet it was really of no surprise. All the same ..it hurt, too.  
   "As you wish.“ Of the two hypospray she held up the one on the left, speaking quietly. Detailing which one, was which, the usage, to ensure that he didn’t awaken from the induced coma, that he felt no pain, nor would he dream. Explaining that it was exhausting to do so while a patient was lucid, as he would be worked on, 24/7 for the next three weeks.  
   "Turn your head please, my Khan.” When he did so, her hand cradled the back of his neck, supporting it, as her thumb brushed over the skin to find the ideal point to give him the shot. “I promise, you will awaken again, stronger than ever.” Murmured as he was given the shots, each in turn, which would quickly drag him down into darkness.

 

Khan's POV:  
     Khan listened as she explained what was going to happen, his eye glazed over as he took the information in. So true darkness once again. That was not so bad, that was something he was used to by now. He did as she asked and almost flinched at the gentleness of her hands as she cradled the back of his neck, and felt a shiver around the skin she brushed her thumb over.  He believed her words, though not because of any trust that was there. No they needed a healthy Khan so he could do his work properly. He had a rather firm grasp of the situation. What she did, it was for their benefit. That was the last thought he had before he slipped back into darkness.

_Four weeks later_

     His eyes ripped open, and he sat straight up in bed. His breathing came in shallow fast gulps as his world slowly came into focus. Confusion. That was all he felt. Confusion and… panic. He threw the covers off of him and quickly stood out of the bed and flipped around a few times trying to understand where he was. His body was reacting faster then his mind could engage.   
     He finally forced himself to stop moving and made his breathing slow down, forced it to take longer deeper breaths. He crouched down and pinched the bridge of his nose closing his eyes. _Think. Breath in and out. Calm the mind._ When he opened his eyes once again he could tell that he was in a room, and that he’d jumped from a rather nice looking bed. There was small sliding door that opened onto a small balcony.   
     He walked over to the sliding door and opened it easily enough and stepped outside. Sounds and smells accosted his senses and he frowned as he tried to understand everything that was before him. Where was he? The last thing he remembered… the last thing… he had been… sick. _Very_ sick. He sighed and let his head hang down a moment as a breeze played over his skin. His skin. He looked down and noted he only wore a pair of boxers at the present moment. He looked back up and took in the view of a rather large looking city before him. Where was he?   
     He finally turned around and walked back inside, closing the door behind him. He explored the rest of the room and soon enough found a closet with a collection of clothing items. He pulled out a pair of loose fitting pants that hugged his hips, opting for comfort rather than practicality at the moment. Then found a grey tee shirt that fit him nicely before he reached for the door and opened it up slowly.   
     He looked around the corner and found himself looking in on an empty hall. He stepped out careful to keep quiet as he did so, and slowly made his way down the hall way, making sure to open the only other door he saw, noting that it was a bathroom. He then came to a set of stairs and narrowed his eyes. He looked over the railing and saw into a larger room down below. And there he finally saw someone. He narrowed his eyes as he looked down. He knew her… she was… she had been. He put a hand to his head as if it would help him remember. Doctor. She had been the doctor that worked with him when he was sick. Why was she here?   
     He started down the stairs quietly, still not sure what he planned on doing. Why had he been sick? He was obviously fine now, had that been her doing? If so why did he still feel this unease about her? The television switched over to the news and there he was… Khan stopped dead in his tracks as he saw the man smile and laugh. It all came rushing back to him. Why he had been sick, who she was and why he felt so uneasy about her. She worked for that man, the man who had threatened the very lives of his family if he did not do as he was told.   
     Anger rushed over him and he dug his nails into his palms as he tried to reign it all in. He could not take it out on her. If he acted out… who knew what… Marcus would do to his family. The telly was then switched to another station and the coward was off the screen. He finished walking down the stairs stiffly and stopped at the foot of them, looking at his _doctor_. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the banister as he looked her over. “Where are we?”

 

RaMinah's POV:  
   Laying out on the couch, her head turned only so as to keep breathing, eyes blearily stared at the screen, pushing a finger on the button of the remote to chance channels, as it sat on the floor. Trying to find something to watch, that would actually hold her attention for longer than five minutes at a time. It looked as though such wasn’t going to happen.  
   Seeing Commander Marcus on screen, smiling, laughing as people gushed all over him was enough to make her stomach turn, so she flipped it over to a music station. Classical, which was much better to help her take a nap.  
   According to her calculations, Khan would sleep at least a few more hours, which gave her plenty of time to take a nap in, before she had to watch him deal with Commander Marcus, again, as she did earlier in that morning.  
   One knee hanging off the edge of the couch, as well as one arm she breathed in deep to let it out slowly, eyes closing. Oh, a nap would be a great thing. Now that she was finally on leave for …well however long Khan was required to work for Starfleet, she felt it best to work at a local hospital instead. She couldn’t just see herself idle for months.. if not years.  
   His words had her flip around, on her back to sit up heart pounding, eyes wide as she stared at Khan. Scooting back so that her back was against the arm of the couch, one bare foot on the floor, giving him a far better view than he would have expected to see of any woman, as she wore nothing but yoga shorts, a cropped haltertop, in combination only covering the necessities, leaving the rest to his imagination.  
   "…I…I..“ A chime was heard on her TV, whipping her head to look, seeing Commander Marcus’ face staring at her, coldly. ”…Sir.“ A sullen acceptance of higher rank, no more.  
   "Leave us, Dr. Jahan, and make proper use of your skills. In the kitchen, will do nicely. You know your duty.”  
   Rising, absolutely livid, she only nodded her head once, sweeping past Khan to go into the kitchen.  
   Smirking, Commander Marcus leaned forward, hands on the desk, linked together. “Sit. We have little time, and much to discuss before you can begin your task, for me and Starfleet to ensure it’s continued existence.”

 

Khan's POV:  
     His eyebrows drifted up slightly as he took in what she was wearing. It certainly did not leave much for him to fill in. He had to hand it to her, for someone working for that man she did look… exceptional. Though except for the eyebrow movement he did not let on to what he thought of how she looked. Luckily before she could stutter out an excuse the TV chimed and caught both their attentions.   
      A scowl took over his face as he saw Marcus once again. Khan watched as Jahan stormed past him and let his eyes follow her movements before he looked back at the television. Just because she worked for Starfleet did not mean he could not appreciate her physique. He then brought his head back to the telly and stood there a moment before he finally walked over to the couch and sat down. He stared at the TV and held his tongue in responding to his words. He could care less whether or not Starfleet continued. In fact he would make sure that before he died it would crumble into nothingness.   
     “Then start talking.” He was sure Marcus would remind him exactly what he held over Khan before going into detail for what ever off the books schemes he wished him to concoct. Khan was going through all the different ways he could kill the man and squeezing his scull till it broke seemed to be his favorite scenario.   
     He was of course taking the man very seriously. He would be a fool not to, especially with his family in such a fragile state. There were many ways they could kill the augments inside without ever having to touch them. That was what kept Khan alert to what Marcus was saying. Because if he could think of how to kill his family in those sleepers, he was positive Marcus would figure it out soon enough.


	4. Chapter 4

RaMinah's POV:  
   At least, Marcus was to the point, and didn’t waste his time trying to be friendly with Khan. The ‘conversation’, truthfully a list of orders came down do a list of things he wanted accomplished within the next 18 months. Impossible. Even if Khan had an entire planet of people working day and night he would never get his fleet of ships!  
   The modifications Marcus required were damn near impossible. Minimal crew, controlled from a central hub, twice if not thrice the size of the Enterprise, currently the largest ship Starfleet had in their entire, existing fleet. That alone was hard enough, but he demanded weaponry that could destroy any ship in existence, within minutes.  
   To top it off, be capable of overcoming and firing upon a ship in warp! It was enough to either make Khan hate Marcus …or thank him for such wonderful ideas. Ideas that he could easily use himself, in the future.  
   During all of this, he could hear her in the kitchen. Not, moving around things as though she was attempting to hide the fact she was in there. No, with the scents that came from the kitchen, she had set about preparing a meal. He could smell chicken, sauteed onions, seasonings, honey, bar-b-que sauce, even fresh bread. Potato bread no less.  
   A new thing in India, during his reign, it was all the rage. Now, it was a commonplace thing. He could even hear her turn on a radio, set to a comfortable level for her but he would hear it, barely. She either had no interest in his conversation with Marcus, or she already knew. Given her level of frustration, and anger towards Marcus …it was quite possible she was being kept in the dark.  
   Mechanical movements, focusing more on the music then her actions she prepared over a dozen, bar-b-que chicken sliders with waffle fries. A simplistic meal, but tasty, and filling. Which was going to be a requirement now, to ensure that his health, remained in top physical condition, mentally and otherwise, for the duration. The orders, and threats to follow, over the last 24 hours were a constant reminder of just what she had to do.  
   Hating how she was being used, but there was nothing she could do. As it was, within days she would be forced to marry a man she didn’t know and as far as the world would know, be his happy wife. Setting the knife down, waiting on the timers she bowed her head, Marcus’ words reverberating in her head.

_"I don’t care if you have to fuck him, and bear his brats to make him happy. Whatever it takes to ensure Khan gives me exactly what I want, you **will** do as you are told. Betray me, to Khan, in any way, Dr. Jahan and I promise you, you and your entire family will suffer the consequences!“_

   While she revered Khan, the man he was before she certainly didn’t want to marry him! Or anyone for that matter. But what choice did she have? If the threat had only been for her she would have born it, in silence. But her family? Her sisters, brothers, nieces and nephews? So many children, now, all of which were so happy, so eager for their Aunt Minah to come home, finally. Now, it would be postponed...  
   She didn’t have the heart to tell them, that she knew, full well that she would never be able to return to them. Her life, like it or not was fully intertwined with Khan’s now. As was her fate. If he ever died… she was sure to follow. It was something she knew, without a shadow of a doubt, as surely as the sun rose and set.  
   At this point, she could only pray that her final days were something she could find some semblance of peace with. Knowing that was impossible too. After all, who better to take their frustrations out on, than the one Khan believed to be in league with? Woman or not it didn’t matter. She was his enemy and as such she was not immune from this wrath.

 

Khan's POV:  
     At one point he thought the man to be completely mad. Mental. A few crayons short of a full box. What he was asking was impossible to achieve in the amount of time allotted. He needed to have been woken up at least three years ago to be semi safe with it all. But eighteen months? He expected Khan to work miracles. He clenched his jaw the longer he listened. Not only did he want a vast number of ships but he wanted them with technology that was not yet available to anyone. Sure the elements and parts were there… but that did not make the job any easier.   
     Then again he also had a fair few ideas that Khan had never considered and he had to give the man some credit for giving him ideas for future use. That did not make him like Marcus any more though. He still would kill him the first chance he got that he knew there would not be backlash on his crew.    
     All while this was going on he could hear Dr, Jahan in the kitchen. Was she actually making something? Actually putting food together? His eyes darted towards the kitchen for a brief moment wondering what was going on in there, but did not dare enough time to actual tell what was going on. Though slowly the smells that drifted from the kitchen started to draw his attention away from the hated one. His stomach started to complain about being tempted with foods his eyes could not see. His mind wandered once more to the doctor.   
     The anger he felt towards her… it was near as much as the hatred he felt towards Marcus. Why she was there he was unsure of. It felt like an attempt at a mockery of his predicament. He did not see any other precautions to keep him in line, only her. It was almost a disgrace to him that they believed… no knew, that Marcus’s threats and this one lone human female could keep him in order. That was what stung, the fact that they were right in believing so. Had she treated him and healed him? It would appear so, but he knew she only did so because Marcus instructed her to.   
     Needless to say he was very happy that the conversation was over with, and could have wished for it to be over with faster than it was. The man was direct and to the point to be sure, but he had so many points to cover it felt like they had been talking an age, though he knew better. He stood up and stretched and thought about just going back to bed, but the smells coming from the kitchen were to great a temptation and he walked towards the food. He hovered just outside the place and his eyes scanned for the one scent that he had picked out from the rest. Once he located the potato bread his eyes lit up slightly and he quickly reached out and grabbed a slice. He pulled off chunks and munched on them contentedly, and watched the doctor for a moment.  
     “Why are you here?” He finally asked. He let his eyes looks her up and down slowly. “Does Starfleet truly believe you can keep me… in line?” He brought his eyes back to her face. “Are you to be my _keeper_ , Doctor Jahan?”

 

RaMinah's POV:  
   She didn’t look, or speak when Khan entered the room. Oh, but she could sense when he had. The table was set, two plates, cutlery, cloth napkins and a pitcher of Sangria, with chunks of real fruit floating in the dark burgundy liquid that filled the large carafe, with two empty glasses.  
   Heaping piles of juicy shredded and diced chicken, dark and white meat mixed together went equally in two massive muffin tins. First, she drizzled first bar-b-que sauce, then honey, dusting what looked like a shaker of spices, blended by hand on top, using a fork to mix it all together. From there, after setting a few large sauteed onion rings on top, each niche was filled with shredded mozzarella cheese.  
   Putting them in the oven, she took a baby wipe from the container on the counter, wiping her hands off. But she didn’t stop working, going to the loaf of potatoe bread, cutting off slices, so that she could do the entire loaf. They would more than likely eat it all as well as everything else, besides. There was a reason for the two tins, each could have more than enough to eat. God knew she was starving.  
   "My name is Minah. Please.“ The soft voice was laced with pain at the tone, and his words alike. Working methodically the blade was very sharp, as she cut even slices. No surprise as she was a doctor, her hands were very steady, despite her current mental state. "He didn’t tell you, did he.” Finally she looked up at Khan, distressed, and upset.  
   Looking back at her work she snorted softly, a sound that wasn’t pleasant or funny at all. Derisive. “Typical. Damn you Marcus you bastard.” Just one more jab, to hurt her all because she refused Admiral Marcus’ advances. What did he expect he was older than her own Father by a decade!  
   The reason, valid reason she gave was that he was an American. Her Papa would stone her before he allowed her to marry any American, even if he was a Fleet Admiral and the current head of Starfleet itself.  
   Setting the knife down, she stepped back, hands on the edge of the counter, one foot further back as she sighed. “I was given orders…” Drifting off into silence, she turned her head to stare at him, with eyes that held little hope anymore. “As I know my words mean nothing, see for yourself.”  
   Exiting the kitchen, careful not to get into his personal space she entered the living room once again, staring at a massive screen TV screen, that was now, so so much more. “Access video communications. Password Shiva Percent Double-aught ampersand Kali”  
   On the screen, the following, Shiva%00&Kali, showed up on the screen with an opaque spinning circle in the center of the screen. “Vocal verification and password correct. Permission granted.”   
   "From this point on, give full access to Khan Noonien Singh. to all video and vocal archives, as well as my personal, medical and Starfleet records.“ Voice calm, steady as she gave him full rights to know virtually everything about her.  
   "Voice verification required.”  
   "Simply state your name, and say a something using common words. A poem, if you like or a paragraph from a book you’ve read. It will record your vocal tones, and match whatever you say in the future. Begin recording.“  
   Once Khan had done so, she sighed softly. "Access video archives.” She said, watching as a long list of video conversations took shape,  beginning with the first conversation she’d had, 8 years earlier, with her parents. The last, latest conversation, the one Marcus had with Khan. Touching the log for   
the longest conversation she’d had with Marcus in months, each lasting at most, two minutes she stood back.  
   "Sit.“ The timer on the screen had showed the conversation had lasted over an hour. The remote was handed to him, before she walked out of the room, giving him the chance to skip over the conversation, if he desired. "I will let you know when your lunch is ready, My Khan.” Said over her shoulder.  
   Leaving Khan to watch as RaMinah was given orders to marry Khan, have his children, whatever it took to make him do as he was told. He could see her face, in one corner of the screen, angry, no livid as he told her point blank why he was doing this to her, ruining her life, to make a man she’d known of all her life, considered a man she’d idolized would hate her as much as he would hate Marcus himself.  
   Fitting punishment to be nothing now, but a concubine, and breeding stock, for turning him down. Marcus’ final words, given with a smirk was that it was pure irony that Khan just happened to be Indian. Wouldn’t her family be so pleased to have her die at Khan’s hand, than Marcus’.  
   Standing in the kitchen she watched the timers, listening to the music, which had been turned up so that she didn’t have to listen to Marcus threaten her, her family, all those children, and gloat over how she would be ruined, dead within a year. But that could all change, if she only took his offer, to be his Mistress, his concubine for the rest of his natural life.  
   A shudder ran through her at the thought of that man touching her. He did, once. The day they met, at Starfleet’s Gala ball, raising which raised money for children with Leukemia. As one of the primary doctors, at that time she was required to attend.  
   Never would she forget that night, as he forced her into an empty room, locked the door and kissed her, touched her without permission. It was sheer terror that shoved him off her, the man skidding across the floor to hit the wall hard enough, to knock him out. She left, in a panic and went home, without ever saying goodbye to any of her co-workers, even the host and hostess. Thankfully, someone had seen her departure and verified her excuse that she had been ill.  
  Lips, skin raw, she was ill for days, from having scrubbed at them for hours, feeling violated, dirty. Avoiding being in his presence from that point forward, being punished for it, time and time again. Now, nearly a year later and Marcus had turned outright malicious, intent on getting his revenge on her, any way he could.  
  Admiral Marcus never took no for an answer, and knew the next time she saw him, she would be no longer pure and instead, after he finished with her, would be nothing more than a shattered doll, with nothing left to live for.

 

Khan's POV:  
     Khan’s look faltered as she told him another name to call her.  He watched as she sliced the bread, and glanced over everything that had been made. His mouth watered from the smells alone, coupled with the sight… it made his stomach do flips. He looked back over at… Minah when she mentioned Marcus had not told him something. He cocked his head to one side at her outburst about the man. So she truly did not care for the man? He snorted but made no comment. Though an interesting observation it did not change his thought about the woman. A fact she seemed to understand.   
      He followed her into the other room. He raised an eyebrow as he listened and could not keep the surprise out of his eyes. “Khan Noonien Singh.” He paused a moment before a poem came to mind. “Nature’s first green is gold, Her hardest hue to hold. Her early leaf’s a flower; But only so an hour. Then leaf subsides to leaf. So Eden sank to grief, So dawn goes down to day. Nothing gold can stay.” Then he did as she told him and sat down.   
     He nodded his head absently as she left his eye glued to the TV. She did not even wish to stay and see what he watched? Though of course she had already gone through the conversation so there was no real point in her staying. As he watched the scene unfold before him he grew annoyed, upset, and bordered on simply being pissed off. He was being used… He was being used for Marcus to extract revenge on Dr. Jahan for her turning him down. That alone upset him, what  infuriated him though was the fact he had played right into the mans hands.   
      He could not set aside the way felt about her, not at this point. But now he was determined to undermine Marcus’s plan. He would take any simple pleasure he could get at this point. That then brought him to the next point that had been made… he was expected to marry her. It was something he could not get around. They were to be wed… wedded to an enemy… There was no problem with her beauty or her intelligence, though even that was questionable with joining with this man. It was the simple fact that… He wanted to feel outrage, anger. He wanted to destroy the whole place but he just could not bring himself to… feel.   
     He ran a hand over his head then let his head fall between his shoulders, hanging, stretching his neck. How did he end up in this mess? If it were not for the growl in his stomach he would simply leave and go back upstairs. He flexed his hands and huffed. He took up the remote and started to go over her basic information, just getting a general idea about her. Once he had gotten a grasp of what she did, he tried to gather information over Starfleet itself. The information he could gather did not line up with what he was being asked to do and a frown started to form on his face. So he was truly a off the books experiment. The question now was if Marcus was working of his own accord, or with the blessing of the rest of this… corporation.   
     His eye twitched. With every question he answered two more seemed to pop up in its place. He ran a hand over his face and realized how loud the music was from the kitchen and glanced over. One problem at a time. His _intended_ was in the kitchen, obviously upset. Though he did not trust her as far as he could throw her, he was able to sympathize with her to a degree. She was… a problem. “…Minah…” He said under his breath, not calling her but rather testing the name on his lips. Whether he liked it or not they were stuck in this together. Maybe… maybe she could become an ally of sorts. Maybe she knew the location of his people and with a little time would help him free him.   
     His eyes had glazed over in his thoughts and he refocused them on the woman in question. Now looking at her he felt at war with himself. Half of him want to strike her down, while the other half wanted to leave her be. To somehow fix the problem that Marcus had made. Her family had been threatened just as his had. They were truly both in the same boat, both trying to survive, to keep their families alive. The only difference being how they had gotten there. He stood up off the couch and headed towards the kitchen once again. “Is lunch ready?”


	5. Chapter 5

RaMinah's POV:  
   When he asked, she stood up, setting the muffin tins on the counter, under two hotpads. Hotpads, she did not have on her hands. She’d handled both pans, while they are hot enough to scorch her flesh. However she gave no reaction of any sort, using a small spoon shaped as a ladle to scoop out the contents, putting them on the bread which had been warmed, buttered and lightly toasted. “Two more minutes at most.”  
   On the table was a massive bowl of waffle fries, a container of ketchup another of real mayo with a cloth over the bowl to keep the the fries warm. More ice had been added to the Sangria, and stirred, he could see it still spinning, in fact. A half dozen of the sliders, were prepared, as he watched. A bit more seasoning, but otherwise she made the sandwiches deftly, and set before him, as well as another, empty plate.  
   Getting a pitcher of ice water out of the fridge she set that out as well, and two more glasses. “Eat as much as you wish.” Making her own food, but at a slightly slower pace, now that she was sure he had everything he needed, or wanted.  
    Taking a breath, her words were in a dull monotone. Having come to a decision to make the best of the situation. Her family, her parents would urge her to do so, and make them proud. She would try. It was all she could do. Her hands were tied, in every other respect. “So now you know what I must do. I know I don’t have any choice but I want you to know this. I will be a good wife, nor will I ever betray you to him or anyone. I was raised right, under your teachings which my family has followed to this day. You saved my family from poverty when he saved your family. I will honour him …my family and you. I will make you proud, I will prove my words true.”

 

Khan's POV:  
     Khan quirked an eyebrow as he noted what she had done. How had she managed that? Was it a new training program that the humans were going through? If a human from his time era had done what she had just done they would be howling and considering going to a doctor. He muffed and shook his head slightly. Again more and more questions popped up. He nodded his head at her time and snatched up a waffle fry from the table popping it into his mouth.  
     He watched her work without an expression to his face, thinking over what was expected of the pair of them. He started to make his plate very hungry and his mouth watering from the smells and sights. He bit into the first item and flavor exploded in his mouth; the sliders were wonderful. He ate in silence and did not slow down until she finally spoke up. He let his eyes wander up to her face and watched it while she spoke.   
     He swallowed the bite in his mouth and brushed his fingers together to clean them. What made her think he wanted a good wife? Why did she tell him all of this when she knew he did not trust her. What use were her words when there was no way to back them up? He ran his tongue along the inside of his teeth and took in a deep breath. “I have a feeling we are both in a similar situation.” he started to fill his plate back up as he spoke.   
     “Marcus has threatened your family if you do not do as he wishes, just like he has done mine. For what ever reason he has decided that you and I _marrying_ will somehow help him achieve his goals.” He took a bite and chewed it slowly as he thought over his next words. “I refuse to be a tool for him to use against you for the simple fact that there is no other way for me to keep some dignity.” He poured himself a glass of Sangria and took a swallow. He closed his eyes a moment as the liquid washed over his taste buds. He would hand it to her, she knew how to prepare a meal that everything complemented each other.  
     He opened his eyes again and refocused on the conversation at hand. “I see no way around the marriage and that is a pity. But it something that must be done for both us and our families to survive.” He sighed and swirled the drink around in his glass, a moment of silence falling between them as he did so. “As I am sure you know by this point I do not trust you.” he set the glass down and looked at her. “You are working for the corporation that is threatening my family, and quite frankly the only reason I am talking with you is because of the danger your family is in. So yes, you _will_ have to prove yourself to gain my trust.” He paused then added darkly, “And that is not something easily given anymore.”   
     He snorted then lightened back up. “You keep talking about being raised right; knowing my teachings. It intrigues me that you know anything about them in this day and age. I knew I had a few loyal humans when the slaughter took place, but I would have thought the non-loyal would have squashed out any positive memory of me and my kind. Tell me what do you know about me?” He took another bite of his food.

 

RaMinah's POV:  
   Listening, with her back to him she worked on the food, losing her appetite, quickly. However, her stomach, despite its flip-flop due to her current situation, had more sense then she did. Sustenance was a must and she would eat, even if she didn’t want too. “He thinks that if you are given a concubine, to satisfy your carnal urges on that it will make you more focused on your work. That it will give you more reason to finish it, in a timely manner, if a family much more intimate, is directly threatened.”  
   Seating herself, she poured both a glass of the Sangria and one of the ice water, drinking from them both as she ate her food. She wasn’t picking at it either. She ate just as much as he did, but at a slightly slower pace. “I know.” Making no attempt to explain anything about herself. He didn’t want to know, wouldn’t listen to it anyway. She knew full well he could kill her within a second, snapping her neck, that there was nothing she could do to stop him.  
   If it wasn’t for her family, that would suffer for it, she would have asked him too, so that he could be free. Eyes staring at her food, eating mechanically, not even tasting it anymore. Taking a breath she slowly let it out. Well he wanted to know, so, she began to tell him.  
   "I know grey is your favourite color. You sleep on the right side of the bed, always facing the door. Food with rich, exotic flavour, little spice but not heat. Mangos, fresh not canned. Your fondness for 80’s metal/hair bands, is a bit of a taboo indulgence. You took lessons to learn how to dance, singularly and with another.  
   "You prefer cats over dogs unless they are trained properly. Birds, unless they are for hunting, or can speak annoy you. You know 6 different forms of martial arts, with a particular fondness for Capoeira, however you are an expert at Jujitsu and Kickboxing.“  
   Her brows rose a bit, before her eyes did. "Adeen, your manservant, who smuggled you off the planet, onto the Botany Bay, was my however many greats, grandfather. His last name was Jahan. His lineage, was very great as was his influence which is why the Indian government allowed him to survive. He was a brilliant man, who knew you as well as he knew himself. Through him, he ensured our entire family remained loyal, willingly so, all this time.”

 

Khan's POV:  
     The more she spoke the slower he ate until he had stopped altogether and simple looked at her, hardly able to believe what he was hearing. How in the world did she know all of that? Surely none of that would be in Starfleet records. What use was that information to anyone who wished to bring him down, or find ways to control him? No this… this was something different.   
     Then she said his name. Adeen. He had not even thought of the man since he woke up, of course to be fair he had only truly been awake all of…three maybe four hours. He looked down at his plate as he realized the man was dead by now. For him it had only felt like a nights rest since he had last seen Adeen, and now… he was dead. He knew it foolish to feel a sudden pang of sorrow… a burst of pain in his chest at the thought. After all he had known going in that the world would not be the same when he came out. But it had never occurred to him that there would actually be people he left behind, people who he had spent quite a bit of time with.   
     He almost wished he had not asked her about what she knew of him. He finally took a breath and replied to her facts, “I see.” And started to eat once more. So she was his some odd great grand daughter? He let his eyes flick back up to her and studied her face a moment trying to see if he was there, if his blood, his genes had truly been passed down. He made a small face and looked back down at his food. He had not been awake long enough to deal with this; to deal with any of this. An annoyed growl came from his throat; and he pushed his food around on his plate.   
     So she did truly know him… That was… unsettling in a way. That she knew so much about him and he knew next  to nothing about her. Yes he had a grasp of her degree and interactions and position within Starfleet, but he did not know her, not the way she knew him. Or in the way that she could spew out facts like they were air. He ran his tongue along the inside of his teeth as he thought over what the implication this meant. As he did so he remembered what she had told him about what she was believing she would have to do in order to make him happy; in order to make Marcus believe he had another pawn to use against Khan. He shook his head, his already sour mood darkening at the thought.   
     He had no intentions of truly taking her to be his one, his mate. He did not wish for her to bear his children, did not wish to touch her in such a way. If it had been an assignment, or a means to gain Intel he would  have had no problem playing around; teasing up and down until he got what he wanted. But to actually take someone as his own? To take her as his own? To have her bear his children? It was not so simple. He was not just taking someone, claiming them as his, but he would also _be claimed_ by his mate. They would belong to each other equally, and if Marcus thought that would happen over night he was in for a rather nasty shock.   
     He started to open his mouth to say such to her, to tell her she should have no fear of becoming a concubine to his savage urges but the words stuck in his throat and he closed his mouth again. Why tell her now? What good would it do? No he would tell her later, and only if it came down to it. No need in explaining himself to her. So instead he opted to ask another question. “We marry in a few days correct? Will we start work with Starfleet before or after our _marriage_?”


	6. Chapter 6

RaMinah's POV:  
   Seated in her chair, flush against the back her hands stayed in her lap, one crossed over the other, as were her legs. Staring at her hands, eerily silent. No protests, no sounds at all. As someone who desperately wished to be anywhere else but right there. While her jaw worked, it was merely an attempt, a good one at that to not let herself cry. The trickle of blood in her mouth as she bit her tongue, hard attested to that.  
   Blood he could smell, faintly on her breath when she finally responded to his words, after a long silence. “I… cannot do this.” Mumbling words to excuse herself she stood up, and slowly exited out of the room. Shaking, violently but her head was held high. The moment she was out of sight, however she ran.  
   Footsteps pounding on the stairs as she went into her own bedroom, the door closing with a slam, collapsing on her knees in front of the monitor that she used, when calling her family. It, was secure from Starfleet, but not Khan. Trying five times to call out the password verbally, it couldn’t recognize her voice. It was too clogged with tears, too miserable.  
   Forced to type in the code manually she waited, in misery for her parents, who had just started their day.  
   "Kuar what is wrong? What happened?“ Her mother asked, each word growing in worry.  
   ”…mama…“ hearing her mothers voice the sobs increased until she was clearly hysterical.  
   "RaMinah, talk to us _please_.” Her father begged, watching as she held her face in her hands, rocking as a child would, shaking her head unable to speak.  
   "Princess …please.. tell Mama what is wrong. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me.“ Hands held together in supplication she had tears running down her own face. Never had she heard such misery, wishing so much she could hold her eldest.  
   ”…’m sorry.. sorry…sorry..“ RaMinah began to chant, over and over again.  
   "What? Why are you sorry Princess. What has happened? What is going on?!” Her father demanded, his voice growing stern, and frantic. “Answer me RaMinah what happened?”  
   "I love you. …all of you. I’m sorry. Goodbye.“ Hitting the switch to turn the machine off, so that they could not call back, ignoring her parents cries of alarm.  
   She continued to cry in the silence that followed. Not for herself but because she knew with that final word, such vitriol spewed for the concept of marrying her, despite the fact he knew she was being forced into it as well… It would never work.  
    She’d rather die then subject Khan to such humiliation and ultimate misery. She only prayed her family wouldn’t suffer for it. In Hindi she murmured what was once a phrase said first by Adeen, to the world, repeated by all of his family after, into a prayer.

_‘For my Khan, my life is his. To give my life for his is an honour. Without him, I am nothing.’_

    Trying to calm herself down, so that she could remain calm, when she asked ..no, begged Khan to end her life, so that he could be free of Marcus’ machinations and hopefully, in time repay the Admiral for all his crimes, atrocities against Khan and her family as well who never ceased to serve him, faithfully.

 

Khan's POV:  
     Khan looked up as the faint smell of blood tickled his nose. He frowned as she got excused herself from the table and all but ran from the room. His eyes followed her as she left the room and left his sight. He sighed and pushed his plate away as he heard her feet crash up the stairs and the door slam shut. He covered his face with his hands and let everything that had happened so far crash over him. If he was going to show any weakness now was the time to do it while she was off… crying? in her room.   
     He was unsure what he had said to set her off. He had thought he had made it clear he was not going to allow Marcus to use him as a tool against her. That he sympathized with her plight understanding that they were both trying to protect their families. Maybe it had been too long since he had encountered someone who did not fully understand how he spoke. What he meant when he said certain things.   
     He could hear the faint sound of yelling and decided he should go up and check on her. He pushed his chair away from the table and silently walked up the stairs. He stopped outside of the door he presumed to be her room and listened to what was going on, on the other side. He heard quite a lot of crying. If yelling had happened it was no longer happening and he figured he should just leave her to her own devices. He just did not understand how she could be reacting like this.   
     They had to marry one another no mater what they thought of each other, and by the look of things she hated him. The confession at the table of how she could not do this, the yelling, probably from someone of authority telling her she had to, and now the crying? A logical solution to arrive at that she hated his guts, and that everything except her family and hatred of Marcus had been nothing more than an act.    
     He gave a low growl and started to pull away from the door when he heard it. Well… heard something. He made a face and carefully laid himself out on the floor and put his ear up against the small crack at the bottom of the door, trying to catch what she was saying. It sounded… Hindi maybe? He could certainly catch his name… but the rest was said to low. As if murmured. Now he felt annoyance bubble up. Why was she acting like this?   
     He hopped up off the floor and raised his hand to knock on the door, and stopped himself short of carrying out the task. He stood there with his hand raised just outside the door, as a sudden wave of uncertainty washed over him. He let it fall and leaned against the door frame, his hair falling forward as he did so. To enter or leave her alone… enter or leave her alone… He finally just shook his head and knocked before he could change his mind. He had dealt with females before, surely even he could figure out how to calm this hysterical one down.   
     He tried the door knob and was thankful to find she had not locked it in her slamming of the door. He opened it enough to see into her room and locate her on the floor. He stayed where he was, opting to lean against the door frame rather then enter the room with a potentially dangerous, hysterical female. “…Minah…” Words left him in his time of need. He scowled slightly trying to force them back into his mouth.  
      “I understand that this is a _stressful_ situation, and if… crying in your room makes it better then I’ll just _leave_. But if it does not, _talk to me_. You say you have been raised to know me, but I assure you, you do not _know_ me RaMinah. True you know a great deal _about_ me, but that does not mean you know _me_. This situation frightens me as much as it does you. You are not alone in this.” He fell silent a moment then said softly, trying to calm her down, “I am sorry that you are being forced and your family threatened so you will marry me.” 

 

RaMinah's POV:  
   Dangerous… only in respect for his own sanity. Sitting on her heels, hands in her lap, head bent she appeared to be praying perhaps, although the drops that landed on her hands, wrists showed that wasn’t exactly the case. Misery came off her in waves, having flinched first, when he knocked, again, slight as he said her name. Never looking up, saying a word through his entire speech.  
   "It is unfair for you to marry one so beneath you. I agree I don’t know you. I’ve only been told stories all my life of you, raised to believe that when, not if but when you returned we would serve you again. It was only a matter of time.“ Thumbs rubbed against the sides of her index fingers as she stared at her lap. "I cannot do this, because it disrespects you. I will not take part in that.”  
   Turning her head, she looked at Khan, but just as Adeen had done she stared at his chest, never meeting his gaze. “I ask that you end my life, please. So that my family can continue to serve you and that I free you from… his… control. I am sorry to ask this of you but I feel it is the only option I have, to ensure you have one less thing against you, forcing you to act, be someone you are not.”  
   Looking back to her lap again she sighed softly. “To marry, live with, even speak to someone you hate as much as you do, Commander Marcus.”

 

Khan's POV:  
     Khan was getting pissed off with the woman in front of him. Never had a person who he understood why they were doing what they were doing, made him feel so much annoyance… anger. He did not understand her. Did not wish to understand her, her logic was faulty and he had not been awake long enough to deal with her melodrama.   
     He opened his mouth to ask how killing her would answer any of their problems? How did she think that her death would somehow free him from the weight of his family being held within the sleepers at some unknown location?  But the words did not come out. Frustration, annoyance, and the thought to give her what she asked for flashed through his head. If she wished so much to die then why not just answer her prayer? It would be easier to kill her and let Marcus deal with the aftermath, then maybe, if that man still wanted him to marry, he’d find him someone that was a little more focused on surviving.   
     He snarled as he watched her. Khan was unsure what she thought she was doing. Unsure whether or not she thought this… whatever it was, would prove her loyalty to him, or prove that she hated this situation as much as he did, but it was not working. The longer he stared at her the more repulsed he became that she was giving up so easily. “You are only unworthy because you ask for something so foolish.” He finally spat.   
     He shook his head and considered walking away. It did not seem what he said to this woman she simply listened and said nothing, did nothing, like a hallow shell. Did not give him a reaction until it exploded into what ever she was doing now. He could tell she was crying, could tell that she was upset and he could not find it within himself to feel bad for her. They were in the same damn boat and here she was asking for the easy way out. “Do you honestly believe that _your_ death will solve all my problems? How is the death of one going to save the rest of my **_family_**?” He flung a hand out, “The seventy two other lives that Marcus has hanging over my head?! You are not the only pawn he here.”   
     How could she not care? How could she be doing this? Only thinking of what she believed to be right. “And how can you do that to **your** family? And don’t you try to tell me that they would _understand_. Because I would not understand if one of _my_ crew asked someone we _respected_ to kill her.”   
     He finally stepped into the room and stormed towards her. “You want to die by my hand? **Fine**.” He fell to one knee and swept his hand up under her head and grasped her neck in his hand, forcing her head up as he did so; giving only enough pressure though to let her know it was there but made sure it was not enough to do anything to her. “Is this what you truly want? For me to take your life and have to put up with whoever else he decides to fling at me?”   
     His fingers dug in slightly as his eyes seemed to emit just how close he was to giving her what she wanted. “I may not like you, but I know that you won’t kill me while I sleep. That is enough for me to put up with the **Doctor** I met when I first woke up. Not the woman I see in front of me right now.”


	7. Chapter 7

RaMinah's POV:  
   Eyes blazing they stared at Khan with a fire he’d never seen in any human, before. He knew exactly what he was doing. He was out, to make her mad. Oh and he accomplished that, in spades as her chin rose, skin turning slightly pink under his grip but not purple. She could still breath. And there was so much defiance in her it was hard to understand how she had felt so much misery, begging for death.  
   She spat out, teeth bared, growling out the words, incensed that he was so indifferent to her situation that the didn’t stop to think. “Do it. What do you give a damn about me or my family. We are far from superior so my death means little to you or your ‘family’ in the scheme of things. You care nothing about my own so do not insult me, by implying otherwise!”  
   Nostrils flared as she glared at Khan with intense emotion. Angry, yes oh she was livid. It was hate, surprisingly. Given with all that she’d said, before, it didn’t mean for an instant she didn’t hate him for putting her in this position, knowing full well her life was over in all ways once he was finished with her.  
   "The feeling is entirely mutual, _Khan_.“ But those words, growled out didn’t just come from a woman who was just going to lie down and die, not now when he didn’t just do as she’d begged, if he wanted her to fight back, and live well Khan just might very well regret that, as her hand reared back to punch him right in the kidney. A short, powerful jab that would hurt like hell if it connected.  
   "Why not do it while you are wide awake, because you are nothing more than every other pathetic, self-centered male in existence, typical because you think of nothing but yourself!” Oh she was going to regret fighting back, but well he’d jabbed this lioness one too many times, to not suffer from her teeth and claws in retaliation.

 

Khan's POV:  
     As she spoke he found himself feeling more and more pleased. The defiance in her gaze, the anger that was now there, that was something he could work with, that was something he was willing to put up with. His grasp wavered back and forth though and she spat out the words, his own anger rising and falling as he listened. There was no lie in her words, he did not see why he should care about some human family he knew nothing about, and the only reason he did not wish to kill her was because she had proven she would not kill him, and that she had a mind. He could not be guaranteed another female like her.   
     He kept a calm face as she spat out his name. He had not heard anyone say his name with such.. hate, with such malice in quite a long time. His slumber set aside. He was not sure how exactly she had gone from the pathetic bawling creature from before to this in such a short time, but he liked it. His eyes stayed locked on her eyes and did not see the fist raised and ready to strike, at least not at first. If only she had stopped there, if only she had not brought in his own honor into her rampage. It might have ended so much smoother. It was then he noticed the hand but did not move out of her way, thinking the pain would not be very great. What pain he felt would only fuel the rage that was about to burst from himself.   
     Though, he would admit that he had not expected such a blow from a human, let alone a human female ho had been teary eyed and pitiful all morning. He released his grasp and sucked in a breath, not ready for the blow she had dealt him. His eyes quickly looked her up and down and wondered what he had missed. What exactly had they given him? What had they put over him to babysit him? The questions were hardly there long enough to ponder though, for the slight pain he had thought would follow had been quite a bit more. Who did she think she was attacking him the way she was? What gave her the right to strike back after he had reminded her what it meant to live?  
     He snarled, “And you are _no_ better! You whine, cry, _throw tantrums_ and complain about your place in this life, your role in this, but I have yet to see you do _anything_ to fix it. Except _ask me_ to **kill** you, to let you take the _easy_ way out.” He spat. “At least I have my own will to live, self-centered or not. At least I am trying to keep MY family alive. I am not the enemy here Jahan! I did not _wake_ you, did not _hide_ your family.” He lunged forward and caught her around the shoulders and threw her towards the floor, attempting to pin himself on top of her. “ **I** did not threaten their lives to make you do this!” He winced slightly as her previous jab still throbbed, complaining about his movements. “So **do not** blame me for what _you_ got yourself into.” His voice was not yelling but rather a deep growl at this point, and his eyes, wide with anger. 

 

RaMinah's POV:  
   "Fuck you and the whore you slid out of! Tell me you would have been calm in my position and I will call you out as a fucking liar.“ Snarling, eyes blazing RaMinah wasn’t about to back down. It felt liberating to be angry. She’d spent weeks afraid, upset, in tears agonizing over her family. That he was berating her for her breakdown, did not set well with her _at all_.  
   Which was why she got right back in his face refusing to back down, putting herself in a position to be flung down, losing her breath as she found herself pinned by an extremely pissed off Augment. ” **I** got myself into?!“ Bellowed right in Khan’s face, loud enough to make his hair flutter. Holy FUCK that woman had a set of lungs on her. She should have been in opera!  
   Not about to be treated, yet again like some weak minded/bodied female, feet planted as she heaved her entire body up into a backbend of sorts, to throw him off. All while her right hand tried for  a suckerpunch to his kidney that would make him piss blood, the next time he had to use the loo.  
   Oh she was most certainly not about to just lay there and take it. Nope. Far as she was concerned, the moment he accused her of willingly being a part of this, she snapped. Out to hurt him, get him off her for one and kick his ass all over this apartment. Clearly giving little to no care whatsoever if she was hurt, if not killed in the process.

 

Khan's POV:  
     Though he knew it to be an insult he could not hide the cruel smile that found it’s way to his face with her comment about his supposed whore he had slid out of. Why correct her mistake? It was of no consequence. “Then call me a fucking liar.” He said. he knew he would have kept a calmer head. That was the one thing he prided himself on, the one thing he could rely on. He only let others see what he wanted them to. It would take the literal deaths of his family for him to even consider the state she had been in when he woke that morning.   
     He scowled as she yelled in his face, could feel his hair blow from her bellow. He blamed that for the slip up and getting slid off of her with a rather nasty blow to his kidneys. He hissed and rolled away from her, running into a piece of furniture as he did so. He wrinkled his nose at the contact then focused entirely on the female in front of him. he was tired of this game they were playing, and frankly his patience was wearing thin. Did she intrigue him? Oh yes, but not enough to put up with her female hormones.   
     “Yes, _you_!” He snapped back at her. He did not run back into the fray immediately though. No he would let her run at him this time, it was time he step away from this emotionally. He had been caught off guard twice now and would pay the price for his folly. Now he needed a clear, calm head. He kept a low, grounded stance as he watched her; tried to calculate what she would do next. Part of him wanted to simply make a dash for the door and shut it firmly behind him; though he had a feeling that would not stop her, only slow her down a moment. “Though I am sure you’re about to scream at me how this is not your fault.” He said flatly, eyes trained on her every movement. 


	8. Chapter 8

RaMinah's POV:  
   The point was she didn’t **care** if it was a mistake or not. Simply put, she didn’t give a damn what he thought, or felt anymore. If, he even felt anything at all. Which she doubted, highly.  
    “ _Of course._ You are so _‘perfect’_ you didn’t find yourself in the same position I’m in, at all. I’m **imagining things** and have it wrong!” Seething now, punctuating each word with such enunciation she should have gotten a medal. “As you are my judge and jury, without even knowing me, insulting me repeatedly then attacking me? By all means, _get yourself out of the mess you are in_.”  
   Curling her lip at him she looked Khan up and down as though he was nothing. Nothing at all. That had to hurt Khan to be disregarded as nothing to the only person he could trust. A trust clearly not returned in any respect, now by his own words and actions.  
    “You are a fool and worse woefully ignorant. I tolerate neither. Get out. Go find your own way in this world. I care not what the hell you do, or where you do it. Marcus can fuck himself with an especially wide, spiny cactus to a high cliff and fall off, if he thinks I am going to tolerate you, an idiotic male fucking up my life believing, wrongly, that I am a stupid, emotional female.”  
   Standing up, slowly it was as though every emotion she had in her just …died. Coldly staring down at Khan eyes glittering, the fires behind those gemstone eyes were now banked until there was no glitter, none of that fiery passion. Nothing now, except for the frosty tone of her voice.  
    “You have five minutes. If you do not do so voluntarily I will proceed to eject you, by your face, from the balcony. Which I might add, is on the 57th floor.”  
   She meant every word of it. It wasn’t just confidence that backed her words. It was the experienced tone of a woman who had killed before. Human or not she certainly didn’t care he could kill her. She might just get the jump on him and end him first! He would be a fool to underestimate her. It was prudent, to be wary as even Khan could not survive such a fall.  
   Walking out of the room with more grace and regal poise than he’d ever seen a human woman accomplish before. Nor could any human woman turn off her emotions, beyond disdain as though it was a mere switch.

 

Khan's POV:  
     He watched her as she threw more words at him. He did not deign to retaliate to her. Oh how quickly she had already forgotten that she was the one who had asked him to kill her. That this mess was on her. He should have just carried through with her request; he could not see how she could ever be a help to him, especially now.   
     If what she did, seeing him as _nothing_ , hurt him, he did not show it. He kept it buried deep within him, where no one would ever see it. What trust he had put in her had obviously been done so with a clear lack of judgment. He quirked an eyebrow as she made her threat, one he imagined she could carry through on if he was not careful. He watched as she left not moving until she was clear and gone.  
      If she had hoped to prove that she was somehow strong, in control of herself by this act she put on, hoping to intimidate him perhaps, she had failed immensely. He knew she was a strong woman, the pain in his sides were proof enough of that. But emotionally wise? She was far from in control, and to him she had a long way to go to be worth his time. He did not tolerate such immaturity.   
     He finally left her room, walking to his own. Something was wrong with this female. He got the notion she was not entirely… human. And with the tension and anger in the air it would be unwise for him to stay if both of them were to stay alive. He slipped into clothes that could be worn outside, remembering from that morning the air had a nip to it. Now he was going to have to contact Marcus. He groaned and let his head drop for a moment. “Damn this woman.” He muttered. He looked back outside and thought how pleasant it would be to simply end it here and now; maybe she had had the right idea. Surely a fall from this height would end him…  
     He shook his head, knowing if he took that route they would simply wake another one of his crew up and he knew they could not take _her_ on. He walked out of the room and down the stairs. He did not look at the other as he moved about the room. He played with the idea of leaving Marcus a note now, but figured that she would tell him he ran off, or he would find out on his own. Either way he knew someone would come looking for him as long as he stayed visible.   
     He located the front door and fiddled around with the locks until he got them all undone, then opened the door and walked out of the room. Of the chaos that had been the worst hell he’d gone through since the last meeting of the elites. He snorted and closed the door softly behind him. He looked around him and finally realized that he was outside the home… away from his sitter… That the outside world was only yards away. He located the stairs and quickly started to descend them, going faster and faster as he got closer and closer to outside world. As if worried that something would happen to send him back, that something would happen to deny him this moment of fresh air.

 

RaMinah's POV:  
   Khan had assumed many things about her, thus far but as he’d never made a point to voice such things aloud, he was left to his own devices, and his own foolishness.  
   Movement came from the kitchen. No loud noises, no signs that she was angry. Matter of fact, in comparison as to how it was, when she made the food for him, she was damn near silent, now than she was then. It helped her calm what anger she had, until there was nothing else, left but a dead calm. A calm that made her a perfect candidate for this task ..One she never asked for, or wanted.  
   Hearing the front door she didn’t even pause or react in any respect, except to know, he would be back. Marcus made it plain the only way she was going to get out of this ..was if she was dead. As that was being denied of her, again having no choice except to do as she was told, the food was put away, the kitchen cleaned. From there she took the keys, using the communicator attached to her jacket. “Miller.”  
   "Miller here, Doctor.“  
   "Beam me to the hospital.”  
   "But, Dr. Jahan, today is your day off..?“  
   ” _Now._ “  
   "Ye-yes Ma'am.” The young man stuttered, beaming her directly from her apartment to the hospital on the other side of London. From there she would work, voluntarily a 12 hour shift. Better to focus on the children that needed her than an egotistical, King that was too handsome, too distracting for her continued mental health.

   Damn.

 

Khan's POV:  
     He had been right about Marcus finding him, he had simply expected the man to do so quicker then he had. He had been gone a full eight hours before a car finally showed up to pick him up. It had been a nice outing he had to admit. He had gotten a firm grasp on what the world was like now, and had learned of the many advances in the technology.   
     It had been a good time to clear his head and push all thoughts of the, though very attractive, very annoying doctor. She just seemed to know how to push all his buttons in the wrong ways. How could someone that he actually found attractive be so… damn _infuriating_?   
     Regardless Marcus’s men had finally found him at a small cafe and had proceeded to bring him back to his new home. He scowled at the memory of their words. He looked around him and thought the space he was in would never be a place he would ever be comfortable in. He looked at the clock and noted that it was now going on twelve hours since he had seen the doctor.  
      He had thought about leaving again, but now men were posted outside, and he didn’t feel like taking them out. He sighed and flipped through the channels again. He had helped himself to the food that had been made at lunch, but that had been about four hours ago and he was starting to get the munchies again.   
     After much consideration he finally pulled himself up and walked back into the kitchen. Before he did anything he cleaned his dishes before he opened the door to the icebox and rummaged around once again. He reappeared with a new plate of food and closed the door with the ball of his foot. He wondered briefly when, or if the doctor would be back. He could not decide if he wanted her back or wished for someone new…   
     He shook his head and plopped back down on the couch. It did not matter, he only had to focus on keeping Marcus happy, keep his family alive. He could not spare the emotions to worry about anyone else. He wanted to care… he wanted to be able to feel something for Jahan and her family, but he simply could not feel anything for them. Maybe if he had felt that way towards his own family he would have been more concerned but as it was he just pushed the notion away.   
     He put a spoonful of the food into his mouth and chewed dutifully. With the drop off Marcus had given him a set of papers to look over and work with so he could have a design ready to work with when he finally started working on the machines Marcus wanted. 


	9. Chapter 9

RaMinah's POV:  
   When the front door opened, a voice was protesting, “Ma'am, please. Let me carry those in for you.” Young, perhaps in their late teens. Male. Voice just barely out of its final stages with a faint crack to it. Most of all sounding oh so very hopeful to get more than just a foot inside the door.  
   "No.“ Voice far too stern, she took a deep breath trying for a more polite tone. "No thank you. I’ve got it.”  
   "Are you sure? A beauty like you should have a man around to take care of you.“  
   RaMinah inwardly groaned as though she was being stabbed, slowly with a dull blade. Gods the boy in front of her barely had any stubble on his chin! ”…really. I’ve got it. The datapad, please?“  
   Setting one of the bags on the sideboard she took it, signing it quickly, giving a tip as well. Not a big one, just the usual. Hoping, like hell they finally agree to do away with money altogether. It was nothing more than an annoyance in these times.  
   "Oh …thanks. So, you want to go out sometime and have coffee or go dancing or something? I’ve never seen you with a guy so I know you’re lonely and all, and you’ve got a smokin’ body so why not yeah? Nothing wrong with getting together and having a bit of fun.”  
    A strangled sound as she found a hand that shouldn’t be touching her, as she turned to get the bag, she hissed out, “What the hell? Get your bloody hands off me!”  
    “Ah comeon. You know you want it.” Thinking he was sounding all suave, trying take the bag out of her hands. As she refused the bag ripped, contents spilling everywhere. Thankfully, nothing broke.  
    She, glared at the men, guards, knowing who they were and why they were there. One standing at the bottom of the stairs, watching. Just.. watching. Openly so. Anticipating what was to come. What the hell were they going to do just let this happen?  
 _Fuck. That._  
    Not even caring who was watching or why she used both hands, a quick, hard, painful jab to the mans kidney (to ensure he pissed blood for a week) the other slamming her palm into his sternum, making the young man fly out the door, to land, painfully on the stairs.  
    Adjusting her clothing, a cool stare given to both men, the lack of emotion beyond a one way path that ensured their deaths, made them step back, not hinder her as she took hold of the handles to her portable shopping carts, closing the door in their faces.  
    Cursing, quite fluently in English and Punjabi, in regards to their genitalia and how she hoped that their cocks turned black and fell off, she headed for the kitchen to put the food way. Not even noticing, nor caring if Khan was even in the apartment or not.

 

Khan's POV:  
     Khan’s eyes flicked open and snapped his head towards the noise. He narrowed his eyes for a moment then slowly relaxed as he realized who it was. He listened to the commotion that was being caused right outside the door and groaned internally. He knew she was more than capable of handling herself and did not bother getting up. The fact that he had been taken back here and that she had returned meant he was expected to get along with her and starting up another fight right after she just got back home was not something he was eager to do. He knew she would hold up on her threat… and he was not sure he would stop her in ending his life.   
     So he stayed on his spot on the couch. He looked at the telly and frowned at what was on it. He had forgotten what had been on when he fell asleep, but these characters were not what he remembered drifting off to. Of course he did not know of anything else to watch so he left it on and a frown slowly formed on his face as he tried to make out what was going on. It made no sense… What was the point of this show? He would claim it was a show for a child but he would not even put a child through what ever this was. He was utterly fascinated by it. Maybe… with television he could survive this whole… living with his doctor thing.   
     Speaking of which… He glanced over towards the kitchen. He was still not engaging with her until she did so first, or Marcus forced him. He did not see why they needed to talk with one another to get their job done, and so was going to speak as little as possible to her. She was… they were both too unstable. She was some form of super human, not to the same degree as he was for he was still breathing, but still able to cause him pain. Something else to work on. His slumber had made him week, and his pain tolerance would need to be built back up. He remembered a time when he showed pain to no one. He sighed and brought his attention back to the screen, the commercials having ended.

 

RaMinah's POV:  
   Returning to the entrance way, with a large laundry basket, she gathered up the groceries, scattered across the floor. One item began leaking, but it was transferred over to the clear plastic casing, leaving only a bit of sugar for her to clean up with a wet rag.  
   Once everything was put away, she was sweaty, filthy and grumpy. Exiting the kitchen, already shedding her top, it was flung into the basket, having no need for a bra. Shoes kicked lightly back into the hallway, before losing her pants as well. No undies.  
    The basket, was taken with her to drop it at the top of the stairs as she made her way into the bathroom, turning the shower followed by her music player, set to a volume she could comfortably hear, but wasn’t annoying for her neighbors.  
   While it was frowned upon to use water in these times, and instead use a ‘sonic’ shower, she found it much more soothing, to shower using water instead. As hot as she could stand it (which would have scalded a human badly enough to end their lives) either as a shower, or in a tub while listening to music, at the same time.  
   Drowning out the rest of the world, while she used her downtime to calm down, and relax was a must. Due to her current exhaustion, which was so acute, she was running on automatic, the doctor, had completely forgotten, Khan was even there. Her thoughts of shower, food then sleep were about the only thing keeping her going at this point. At this point, food was merely an option, not a must.

 

Khan's POV:  
     Khan did not glance over until she had come out of the kitchen for a second time, and only then because another commercial had come on. When he caught sight of her and quirked an eyebrow at her display of flesh. The second one joined it as she lost her pants as well and could not stop himself as he watched her disappear up the stairs. So… she had either gone mad or forgotten he was in the living room. Both were… disconcerting.  
     He ran his tongue over his lips before attempting to turn his attention back to the telly. He heard the shower turn on and could not stop the images his mind supplied him. He wrinkled his nose annoyed he could not control his mind better. The music he could just make out from down stairs… It sounded interesting. more interesting then the show that was on. He ran his tongue along his teeth as he tried to change his train of thought. Soon enough though he found himself at the top of the stairs. It was only to hear the song better, that was it plain and simple. He hovered outside the bathroom door and ran his thumb and forefinger together as he thought.   
     He finally continued on to the bedroom he had woken up in. He had made the firm decision to leave the doctor to her own devices and if she wished to gallivant around the house naked then that was her prerogative. He did how ever close his door with some force hoping that maybe, just maybe she would remember she was not the only one in the house. He proceeded to peel off his own clothing and dump it in a heap next to the door. He once again looked out onto the balcony and marveled at all the lights he saw. In India the lights had been nothing like what he saw now. There had certainly been lights, but they had a warmth to them that the ones outside seemed to be lacking. He could not decide if he liked that or not… He stepped up to the sliding door and closed the curtain blocking out the view.   
     A growl came from his stomach and he made a face. He supposed he should eat something, otherwise he would wake up cranky… He slipped on a the pajama bottoms he had found earlier that day. Though the doctor seemed fine running around in her birth clothes he was not so eager to give her ammo to go off at him with. He quickly opened the door and took the stairs two at a time as he made his way to the kitchen. He was not frightened of the woman, and he knew if he had to he could take her down, though fairly she would give him a fight. It was the fact that he did not have the energy to fight with and live with the same person 24/7. Maybe if he hadn’t been asleep for ever and a day he would see things differently. Of course that would have meant he would have met her as a King and things would have turned out _very_ differently… had that been the case.  
     He closed the refrigerator door with the ball of his foot, a sandwich of sorts in his hands and started back up the stairs to his room; where, creators willing, the rest of the night would go smoothly. 


	10. Chapter 10

RaMinah's POV:  
   Hearing the door, closing she jumped, hand braced on the wall of the shower, head hanging as she listened, intently. When there were no other sounds, just that of the water running -that- was when she remembered, her …guest. Sighing through her nose, she lifted her head up, to let the water fall, directly onto her forehead, and down over the rest of her body which turned to lean against the wall. “…bloody hell.” Oh well. There was nothing for it. Either he saw or he didn’t. Either way she wasn’t about to change her habits. He could either deal with it …or not look.  
   In response, she told the radio, which responded through voice command to come up, two more notches. Blocking out the rest of the world, that much more firmly. Damn the lot of them. Damn Marcus, damn Khan… and damn herself for not fighting back harder. She should have broken a few bones to remind the latter man to not, underestimate her.  
   He’d learn, soon enough.  
   Her bath was long, languid. Hot and steamy, the space beneath the door infused the entirety of her apartment with the scent she always bore, night and day. Black Orchids. Sitting on the bench seat, she indulged in the heat, the steam, hot water ensuring that she was clean, and bare of hair, in certain areas of her body.  
   When Khan walked back into what he thought was his room….? Would no doubt find himself quite startled to realize… it was, in fact _her_ room, _her_ bed he had been claiming as his own.  
   Standing in front of her closet which was open one hand used a towel to rub out the excess water, as another wrapped around her frame, the width of it just enough to cover her. Just, enough. A sure tease that enticed a man to rip it away and see all that she had, with his own eyes.  
   He didn’t have to wait but a second as the towel was tossed into a hamper, the second joining the first as she moved to the drawers, inset within the wall, opening one to look within, searching for something. Khan moved with such natural stealth she never heard him enter the room, believing herself to be alone, and thus had no shame at all for her nudity.  
   Not, that she ever had any shame to begin with.

 

Khan's POV:  
     Khan froze completely as he entered the room and saw her standing there. Had he gone into the wrong room? He poked his head back out into the hall and internally groaned as he realized his mistake. ‘Shit’ he thought. That would make this whole thing that much harder.    
     He looked back into the room a scowl on his face, before he finally realized that she was in naught but a towel that did little to keep her modest. Not that that really mattered, he had seen near everything once before now… Though the way that towel hugged her… the way it seemed to toy with him. Damn he could feel the desire to give into desire start to take over. If he just left the room everything would be fine.  
     He bit his tongue as the second towel was thrown to one side… He should say something… He should just leave… He should act like this never happened. By the creators though she was beautiful, how could a woman of such beauty, strength and knowledge be such a pain in the arse? He had to say something, anything to break the spell she had been able to place over him. If he could just get her talking then he would remember what a confusing over emotional being she really was.   
     “Do you always go gallivanting around the house so?” His voice betrayed him in his time of need; being noticeably huskier than before. He should have just tried harder to leave… Well at least he had not jumped on her… that had to count for something in this situation.

 

RaMinah's POV:  
   When her head rose slowly, at Khan’s words, she didn’t turn around. Didn’t act offended either. And most especially, didn’t make a move, to cover herself up. “Yes.” Stated plainly, bluntly. She’d never not been one to walk around naked in her own home, within hours of gaining such, and hadn’t stopped since. She’d lived alone now, for over 10 years, so the thought of not shedding her clothing, whenever, wherever she felt like it, hadn’t truly occurred to her.  
   At least, not until now.  
   Standing there, she’d noticed, immediately, the change in his voice. It was darker, the husky quality of it making gooseflesh become visible. On her arms, down her back, which he could see clearly as her hair had been piled up haphazardly on top of her head. Heart hammering, she ignored her own reactions, distantly glad he wasn’t snide about it. However, she was surprised it affected him at all and in a way …pleased it had.  
   Every little indention of her spine, the gradual, yet significant curve of that tiny waist, flaring out to hips not too wide… but more than enough to give her a true, hourglass figure. When her chin, tucked down, turning her head, she did so just enough to see him, out of the corner of her eye. Her left eyebrow rising sharply. “I have no intentions of stopping either so you’ll just have to accept it. This is my _home_ …I’ll act, and dress as I wish.”  
   And with those words, slowly turned to face him, needing to see his reactions for herself. Not just hear his voice but to see it. Unconsciously daring Khan, to look. Eyes roaming over his bare chest, how the pants just clung to his hips enough to keep them from falling. How prominent his hipbones were, the well defined his chest, arms were. That long neck, that reminded her of a black swan. The man was regal, yes. But just as any swan, was incredibly dark and dangerous.  
    When her chin rose, it was to the haughty angle of a woman that needed to stand up to someone, something that could otherwise have frightened her. “As… as it is now your home as well …I’m sure you’ll do the same.” Licking her bottom lip as she stared at him, without blinking, feeling very vulnerable in that moment, yet she refused to cover herself, let alone turn away. …she liked it.  
    Oh Gaea this man was going to be the death of her.

 

Khan's POV:  
     His eyes roamed over her back as she answered his question, and he caught the trail of goosebumps bloom across her skin and noted the curve of her back, the way her waist seemed to flare out just enough to place a hand perfectly… He glanced back up, just catching the movement around her eye. A remark came to mind at her words but died on his lips as she turned around, instead a intake of breath taking it’s place.   
      As soon as her eyes moved down he did likewise and took in the way her breasts looked full and soft, finishing off the perfect hourglass figure she had going with her frame. To say she was the image of perfection would not have been too far fetched. Her words brought his attention back up to her face and noted the way she held her head, the slight hesitation in her words, the way she looked at him…   
     His brows creased a moment and he breathed out, “…my home…?” He slowly took a few steps into the room; towards her. Memories of their fight from earlier, of his decision not minutes before, all were cast to one side. That was then, this was now. He could feel himself get excited as he took in her curves and the tantalizing offer they provided.  By this point he decided he was close enough to her and halted in his moving. “I’m not sure you would appreciate it if I ran around as you do.”


	11. Chapter 11

RaMinah's POV:  
   "…yes.“ Refusing to back down, or up for that matter. Hands held at her side, her stance didn’t change, at all. As though daring him to come closer still. Only her eyes moved, watching every move Khan made, but he could see the flutter of her heartbeat in her throat. As a birds would, far too fast to be considered calm especially as she could see quite clearly Khan’s excitement, outlined by those loose pants.  
   At his taunt, the corner of her mouth turned up, only just. He was close enough, that neither could actually feel the heat radiating off the other, but the scent of her was intoxicating, as though it was a drug in and of itself, dulling some of his senses.. while enhancing others.  
   Tongue sliding over her lips, slowly lips parted to breath out shakily. His own scent, was drawn in, out through her nose, eyes closing, briefly for only a second. What …why… "I would.” Incapable of lying, she was however able to evade a question, if she had no desire to answer, and reveal the truth. That she’d answered him without thinking about it… shocked even her. But she hid it well.  
   "I need…“ To change into some clothing, sleep. She had work the next day but the words refused to come. Instead she stepped forward, this time, but only a step. Drawn towards Khan, eyes staring at his mouth.  
    The blip, of an incoming communication, from outside was jarring, dragging both from their hypnotized state. From downstairs, Commander Marcus’ voice could be heard. "Dr. Jahan. We need to have a little …talk. I expect you in my office in one hour. Alone. Dress accordingly. You will not turn me away, this time, RaMinah.”  
   Wincing, her shoulders dropped, as she turned away, drawing out an outfit from within the depths of her closet, to wear. Surprisingly, but perhaps not, into a [sari](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/d3/88/4e/d3884effc5fda61d70fc704021fa9e17.jpg).  
   A muted beige, with an overlay of embroidered lace, it was incredibly simple, yet beautiful outfit. Created to to make the beauty who wore it, shine. Even the shoes matched, slippers covered with the same fabric.  
   Not once did she look at or speak to Khan. Glancing, more than once at the bedside clock, as she seated herself at the dressing table, and began to work on her hair. Her exhaustion was evident, in the harsh light that shone on her face, but she was skilled enough to ensure no one would see it.  
   Finally, she did speak but it would be a statement he did not want to hear her speak. Ever. “I …will be staying overnight.” Only telling Khan this, so that he wouldn’t wonder. Having no foolish notions, that Khan would care, either way. Knowing she had no choice this time. A haunted look in her eyes, before they closed, a brush running through her hair.

 

Khan's POV:  
    Khan watched as she stepped closer, her words shocking him. He had not expected that answer… The way she ran that tongue over her lips… the way she smelled. It was intoxicating to say the least. He leaned towards just as the blip happened and jarred him out of his drugged state. He scowled as he realized what had almost happened… though whether he was scowling because it had not happened or because it had almost happened he was unsure of.   
    Regardless he watched as she stepped away from him and got dressed. He noted she never looked at him again, and almost winced as she told him she would not be returning. He felt anger swell up inside of him, but he quickly squashed the emotion. Not ten minutes ago they hated one another… how had they changed so quickly. He snorted. “Don’t let me stop you.” He said darkly. It came out more harshly than he meant it to, but it would take a lot for him to ever admit that to her.    
    He tried to act like it did not hurt. That he was unaffected that she was picking a human like Marcus over him. But it did hurt that a pathetic human had more power over his supposed to be wife then he did. It hurt that the man made one call and she was getting dressed up beautifully for him and was leaving him, Khan, alone. Leaving him, the super human, for another man. He shook his head and crossed his arms. Even if she did not want to go, that he was forcing her to go to him, she was still leaving. He exhaled. It was not like his opinion mattered any more though. He doubted she wanted him any more than she wanted the Marcus man. Maybe she was simply choosing the lesser of two evils.   
    That stung his pride as well. He scowled and left the room after her. He was not going to be able to sleep after this. He would just be tired the next day if Marcus decided to call him in. He skipped down the stairs and plopped down on the couch. He had no sway over her, not like he did with his own people. She was not one of his and he had never been put into a situation like this. Once he had shown he was the more dominant one, his people simply followed him. He sighed and laid out on the couch staring up at the ceiling. It did not matter. He only had one agenda and that was to get his people, his family free from the clutches of Marcus.

 

RaMinah's POV:  
    It wasn't until Khan had left the room, that she stopped watching him, finally focusing on her task. "...what if I want you to stop me." Whispered, a shudder ran up her spine at the thought of Markus' hands on her again. She'd refused him countless times before, as Khan would never accept her, unless she was pure.  
    Such excuses were a moot point now, as Khan didn't want her at all ...and somehow, Markus knew it.  
    Brushing her hair so that it flowed in soft waves to her arse, her makeup was minimal, only what was deemed necessary, no more. The only reason she wore the dress was that Markus had given it to her a month before, stating he wanted her to wear it for him. While it was beautiful, she preferred much darker colours. Charcoal, black, or jewel tones.  
    When she made her way, finally down the stairs, the tread was of a woman headed for the gallows, not, a date. Turning her head she watched him on the couch, then turned her body to follow.  
    Walking towards him slowly, eyes glazed over as the scent of him hit her once more making every single thought she had was just ...wiped clean. Having no understanding, at all of what was going on, or why all she knew was that Khan didn't want her to leave ...and she couldn't stop herself from doing as he wanted, even if he'd never actually spoken the denial aloud.

 

Khan's POV:  
    He listened as she walked down the stairs and frowned as he noted how heavy they sounded, how it seemed o be the tread of one sent to their death rather then an unpleasant outing. He did not want her to go... he knew that at his core. It confused the hell out of him but he did not wish her to go to that... thing. But he did not move his head to try and stop her. It was not until she entered his field of vision did he realize she had not left the house yet.   
    He looked into her eyes and was unsure of what he saw, but the longer he stared at her the stronger the previous desire flared to life. He reached out a hand and clasped hers in it. “Don't go to that man. He is beneath you.” He finally said. When she did not make a move for the door he stood up from the couch and brought his hand up to her jaw, gently cupping it with his hand. Her scent seemed to wash over him and impair his judgment. His eyes searched her own, and it was as if thought left his mind as he did so. He bent his head down and placed a kiss on her lips.   
    How could Marcus even think he was worthy of trying to lay claim to her? Someone that was supposed to be his? Even if they were not on the best of terms did not give that weak human the right to try and claim her as his own. He released her hand and snaked that hand around her hips, pulling them closer to his own. The hand that had been cupping her jaw moved to the back of her neck and grabbed a fist full of her hair and pulled her head back. “You do not belong to him.” He growled into her ear. “He lost any hold on you when he gave you to me.”


	12. Chapter 12

RaMinah's POV:  
    When he took her hand she didn't pull away. It didn't even occur to her, to try. Watching him stand, draw ever closer his hand on her face, made her gasp silently. Eyes closing, even as his lips touched hers. How, why could they be doing this. One minute she wanted to punch him in the mouth, the next she wanted to kiss him. Inhaling sharply at the touch of his mouth on her own, lips parted of their own volition, instinctively giving Khan exactly what he wanted. Her.  
    Finding her body flush against his own, feeling his arousal against her stomach her hands rose only so that they could hold onto his shirt, along the line of his spine, hold on. Unable to stop the moan of pleasure at how it felt for him to pull his hair, how could something painful feel so good..?  
    "Yes, My Khan..." She gasped, his words making her shiver, biting her lip as she willingly leaned into him, even going so far as to bear her throat, unconsciously submitting to him, knowing Khan would not give her up now that he had her, and Gods she wanted it, him so much she was willing to beg. "...I belong to you... please..."

 

Khan's POV:  
    He felt a jerk of excitement as she moaned in pleasure, the sound only exciting him more. Then those three words passed her lips and a shiver ran down his spine. He looked at her exposed throat as she leaned into him and he nuzzled the crook of her neck, his breath playing along her skin. It was as if he acted on instinct alone, not truly thinking of what was happening, only knowing that it felt right, it felt natural.   
    Then she confirmed what he had all but said. “That's right,” He purred against her skin, his voice husky. “You are mine.”  He bit down on the exposed skin hard enough to draw blood, sucking on the mark a moment before lapping at the trickle with his tongue. Khan looked into her eyes a moment as he licked the last trace of the blood from his lips then took her mouth once more, this time with more enthusiasm now that she had vocalized she belonged to him, and him alone. His tongue explored the inside of her mouth, his kisses rough and demanding, holding nothing back from the woman in his arms.   
    As he took her mouth he twisted them around and half pushed and half fell onto the couch, with him straddling her. The split second fall jarred him for a moment but with her scent all but overpowering his senses he quickly resumed claiming her mouth. As his hands were no longer being used to hold her close he used them to trace down the fabric of her dress, making small teasing patterns as he did so.

 

RaMinah's POV:  
    His breath, warm, damp as it wafted over her flesh made it pebble with gooseflesh in response. Caught between a gasp, and a whimper his voice alone was enough to make her melt, hands clasping the first thing that was handy, to keep herself upright as knees threatened to give out completely even if she was leaning against him for support.  
    Too shocked to cry out, the pain was acute, blanking her mind out, as it created an electric shock, the ploom of heat within making thighs clamp together, finally giving a moan of both pain and pleasure both.  
    Staring with eyes wide, colour golden, yet dark closing as he leaned in, mouth opening to his own without any coaxing at all, a louder moan still at the taste of him and her own blood mixed together as one, hands gripping biceps tight enough to bruise.  
    As to how she found herself on her back she had no idea, but welcomed the position, hands drifting over his shirt to the back of that swans neck, into his hair. That thick, dark hair, running fingers through it before hands became fists, and she arched up, beginning to give, as good as she got.  
    When one hand, finally released his hair it was only so that it could shove material out of the way, skim over muscular abs, to touch him, his skin. Having really, no idea what the hell she was doing. Instinct was driving her.  
    Breathing lost, held and expelled in a rush of whimpers as he teased her. The material, was very thin, slick against her own skin teasing her in means and ways she didn't even know were possible.

 

Khan's POV:  
    Goosebumps burst around her fingers as she ran them over his neck, sending a shiver down his spine. He never would have thought that spot would have been able to cause such a sensation but pushed the thought away, instead focusing on the pleasure it had caused. He groaned as the tender sensation turned into a rougher one and his hair was caught between his fingers and she arched up. How she had this effect on him he may never know, but at this moment he did not care. All he could feel was the ever growing need. He growled into their kiss as she let his hair go immediately missing the sensation, but was pleasantly surprised once more as she moved fabric out of the way and his breath hitched as she ran her hands over his torso, as her fingers explored his skin. It had been a long time since anyone had touched him, and none had ever been able to cause such feelings within him. Maybe she was a witch?   
    What ever she was or what was happening Khan enjoyed the sounds she made as he teased her skin through the fabric. It was good to know he was teasing her in much the same way she him. He then pulled his hand away from her moving it up to tangle in her hair tugging and pulling as they moved around. Then he rolled his hips into hers and moaned at the contact. He wanted nothing more than to take her there and then, but even in his clouded state of mind something was holding him back. Something was telling him that it was not right. That something had to be wrong here. His body thought differently and rolled his hips into hers again, causing another wave of pleasure to course through his body and another moan to pass his lips. He moved his hands from her hair and started to pull at the sari, exposing the skin underneath, finding that he could not get it off fast enough.


	13. Chapter 13

RaMinah's POV:  
    The material of her sari was thankfully, stronger than it looked otherwise it would very well be shreds at this point. She didn't think, couldn't think as his touch, combining that perfect amount of pleasure and pain, made such impossible. Quietly groaning as his hand ran over her stomach, the other hand had her pinned in place, bold enough to pull her head just enough to keep the pain going. Eyes halflidded, lips parted her breathing was shallow, quick, hands holding on, yes but there was no way it could be considered that she was hindering his actions. Hips lifted, as the silk slid away further, off onto the floor revealing the zipper strategically placed along the line of her hip, nearly invisible otherwise.  
    The sound of the zipper, gained only the reaction of her opening those jeweled eyes to stare up at him, and lift her hips, a sign of acceptance, eagerness to be unclothed as well. However, their current position wasn't as pleasurable as one might think, the back of the couch hindering his movements, and her own, as it was for sitting after all, not for the act this pair were so eager to accomplish, instincts and desire overriding common sense. At least the common sense to stop, altogether, that is. That, was when her eyes glanced to the stairs leading up, and in an instant knew if she voiced anything ...he would not stop.  
    She didn't want him too.  
    "Not here..." The thought of him claiming her in the very bed she'd been alone, most all her life thrilled her, her hand running over his back, ribcage with just enough of her long smooth yet sharp nails to titillate his flesh. "Upstairs.. bed..." Wishing she could lift her head up but not at the cost of him letting go of her hair, so she did the next best thing, taking hold of his hair to draw him down for another kiss. What he did with her from this point was his decision ...one she was willing to accept the consequences of ...all of them.  
  


Khan's POV:  
    Khan pulled away enough to look at her as she spoke. He glanced around them having forgotten where the were for a moment. He supposed moving would be beneficial... More room to be sure. He hissed in pleasure as she racked her nails across his flesh, sending ripples down his back. He returned the kiss pressing closer as emotions and pleasure washed over him. Khan almost did not want to move from the pleasure of the kiss as their tongues collided, but logic finally won over emotion and he shoved the fabric of the Sari up her legs so she could hold on with them, and picked her up facing him. Even as he walked though he could not stop himself nipping at her neck that was tantalizing him. He could feel the flesh of her legs under his hands and it made him want to take the fabric off all the more at the contact.  
    With swift ease he he carried her up the stairs and into the room only a short while ago they had tried to kill one another. As soon as they got to the bed he started to fumble with the zipper, pulling it down with more success this time. He smirked as he finally succeeded in his conquest of the damned contraption. He leaned in once more and started to claim her mouth pulling the Sari off as he did so, his fingers ghosting over her skin. He knew she wanted this as badly as he, and without a second thought pulled the annoying fabric off. He took only a moment to remind himself how she looked, why the desire to take her had finally been pushed too far. She was beautiful. The way her body was sculpted was a beauty he could not put into words. How Marcus had ever thought he was worthy to claim such a person as her he could not fathom. With renewed need he pushed her back into the bed and started to climb on top of her, placing kisses up her torso as he did so.  
  


RaMinah's POV:  
    A laugh, brief, surprised as he picked her up, it pleased her as well that he wanted her so close to him that he'd be willing to carry her. Ankles locking, just above the crack of his arse, her head fell to rest on his shoulder, a sigh of pleasure at the sensation of his mouth on her throat, his teeth teasing, pleasure and pain mingling together so perfectly.  
    Their transition from the living room, to the bedroom, passed without her paying any attention to such as her fingers had come in contact with the nape of Khan's neck, nails smooth, hinting at just how sharp they could truly be began to glide over his skin, then his scalp, overcome with the need to touch him, see just how she could make him respond to such pleasurable sensations.  
    While he worked on the bottom half of her sari, she worked on the top, yanking it off impatiently, tossing it aside, wearing nothing underneath. She didn't have too, it had been tight enough, to support her breasts, without revealing anything. But oh, now she was fully exposed to Khan's gaze now, as he eased the rest of her outfit off, leaving her in nothing but a thong, made of silk and lace, that rode high over the hip, enhancing the look of those long legs.  
    A bit of fabric, that tricked and teased the senses, hiding everything, yet revealing everything.   
    Flipping her hair up, over her head as she was pushed back, arms rested on either side to take hold of the headboard, lightly, staring up at him. Part of her yes was afraid ...after all she'd never been with a man before but there was nothing, no one (not even herself) that could stop this. She could see it in Khan's eyes. He would have her, even if she resisted. Which was the last thing she wanted to do.  
    While at first she wanted to watch, his mouth on her skin, well that made such impossible. Legs parting enough to let him rest between them, her hands rested on broad shoulders, kneading the muscles, sighing softly at the sensations washing over her. Oh, this felt so very good, and he had only just begun and oh, she wanted more.  
  


Khan's POV:  
     He settled between her legs easily enough, and moaned softly as she kneaded his shoulders the skin still tingling from when she had racked her nails over them. He brushed his thumb over the fabric of her thong tugging teasingly at it but leaving it be for the moment. He supported himself with one arm then, and brought the other one up to rest on her side. He stroked the skin then nuzzled the crook of her neck, before biting the skin. He ran his tongue over the flesh, sucking on the skin before gliding over to the next spot.  In his fashion he made his way up her neck till he reached her lips. He playfully nipped them but soon kissed her deeply enjoying the feel of their tongues pushing against one another.   
    He pulled back enough to get a breath, resting his head against her forehead, taking this short breath.  He wanted this so badly, already he could feel himself near ready to claim her, but he wanted to make her squirm first, wanted to bring sounds from her that no other man had done before. The thought crossed him mind about if she had been with others but it was gone as quick as it had come. It did not matter, he had and so he knew what he was doing. The hand that was on her side traced up her torso skirting around her chest, then down her arm, coming to rest next to her hand, clutching at the board as she was. He pressed closer to her as he took over her mouth once again, feeling the warmth of her skin against his own, eliciting a shiver across his torso. He pressed his hips into  her hips then as he bit down on her lower lip he ground his hips into hers causing his own breath to hitch a fraction of a second.


	14. Chapter 14

RaMinah's POV:  
    Legs parted to a comfortable angle, toes curling as he teased her mons, fabric already quite damp, a crooning sigh at the ghosting sensation over that bundle of nerves. Tilting her chin up her head turned away, further exposing her throat, grip firm on his extended arm, nails digging in as he left a bruise, moaning aloud at the sensation. Chin tilting up, then down as first she was teased, lightheaded in part due to lack of air, but just how good he was at this. Instinct was the only reason she was able to return the kiss with equal desire.  
    Tongue tracing her lips she panted softly, gooseflesh arising at the light touch. Thankfully it didn't tickle but it could, if Khan was of such a mind to make her squirm, in an entirely different manner. Something for the future, under much lighter circumstances. Now, with his hand holding the headboard a whine from deep in her chest began at the feel of his body surging forward, releasing the headboard, because she needed to touch him.  
    Palms running over Khan's sides, he kept her in place until he finally released her lip, groaning at how they both moved together, a hint of what it would feel like, when he finally took her as his own. The pressure, friction both of fabric, the only thing separating the two felt good, frotting as they did without a care in the damn world as the pleasure took hold of the two in a way that left little doubt that by the time these two found release, they would no doubt be so exhausted, sleep would be the only option they had left.  
    Nails running down his ribcage, she began to kiss along his jawline, one arm around his chest, the other over his shoulder as her mouth began to bite, lick that swan-like throat. She couldn't stop herself from doing so even if she wanted too. She wanted to mark him just as he'd done to her and did so, threatening to break the skin, as his hips worked their magic making it impossible for her rational mind to even work anymore.  
    "....my Khan. Make me yours." Breathing the words in his ear as her legs loosely encircled his hips, the heels of her feet digging in as a sign she was not only enjoying his actions, but wanted more.

 

Khan's POV:  
    A ghost of a smile was on his face as she ran her nails over his ribs. By the creators that felt amazing, the way the nails dug into his skin and left a trail of where they had been, but even that pleasure was overtaken as she  started to bite his neck. He was positive that if she ad used just a little more force she would have broken the skin and he moaned as she continued biting him. It only made him the more eager to remove the last of the clothing from between them. As much fun as it was to have the added friction it was starting to annoy him the hindrance it caused.  
    A tingle swept his body as she asked him to claim her as his. He pulled a hand away from her and tugged at the sleep pants he had on, revealing that he wore no boxers underneath. He then proceeded to tug her thong down and onto her legs. He moved one of her legs to slip the thing completely off. He needed no more convincing that she wanted this as badly as he did and quickly prepared to give them both the release they needed so desperately. Maybe if he hadn't been so hard and needing himself he would have teased as he had wanted but he had not counted on her being able to turn him on in the way she had, and now any teasing he did to her would be torturing himself at the same time.   
    He hovered just above her few seconds before he gently slipped inside of her. He went in not too far before he pulled back then pushed in further, before again pulling back. He leaned his head down while he still had the mind power to properly form sentences. “You are mine RaMinah. No one else may ever touch you.” And with that he plunged deep in to her and started to build up a faster rhythm as pleasure surged through out his body; he moaned into her ear as he claimed her as his own.

 

RaMinah's POV:  
    A strangled squeak was given as she saw Khan, fully naked. Of course, she'd seen men naked, she was a Doctor for fucks sake but this was... so intimate. And so erotic. Gaea he was big, and while she considered protesting that there was no way it was going to fit, she didn't say a word. Believing if she did it would only sound foolish. After all women gave birth to babies all the time surely ....he would fit, right?  
    Legs lifted as he removed her panties, her eyes closed, blushing. Never had she felt so damn exposed in all her life, but it only drove him eyes slowly opening to stare, then to look down as he began the process to take her innocence, and very much made her his own.  
    Slick, it did hurt, a stretch that burned but it was at the same time pleasurable. More so than she'd expected it to be. Just a shallow brush against her hymen, it didn't hurt, but instead as it brushed against her G-spot she moaned lowly, hands automatically clutching his biceps at the sensation.  
    Oh god what the hell was -that-?!  
    But it happened again, and again, gasping as it was awakening her body, preparing itself for her very first orgasm, and to lose her virginity. Her grip tightened, nails digging in at his words, moaning in assent at his claim. She was Khan's and the thought of any man touching her but him was impossible.  
    The preparation couldn't have been, anymore perfect. What better way to get her over the pain than to make her cum, so hard her vision greyed out, crying out sharply as her body quivered in response. Tight, hot and slick she became a vice around his length, holding on as she found herself lost in his arms, the pleasure he was giving her. Never could she regret giving herself to him. Not, if this was what she was to be given in response!

 

Khan's POV:  
    As RaMinah moaned and clutched at his arms he could not stop the groan that came from his own lips. How had this woman gotten such a hold on his emotions? They fell into a rhythm that brought both of them pleasure, a pleasure he had not felt for longer than he could remember. The way she felt around him, was amazing as he continued to roll his hips into hers. Every thrust was more enjoyable than the last and when her nails dug into his skin it brought him that much closer to the brink. Then she cried out as he made her cum and he felt her tight and slick against himself he moaned louder this time in response to her cries and came himself. His breathing was labored and shallow, and his body glistened with a light sweat. He dropped his forehead to hers and pressed them together as he found her lips once again, his hips slowing but not ceasing as he kissed her once again.   
    By the creators she was amazing. If this was what was to happen after a fight they would have to do it more often. He brought a hand up and started to massage one of her breasts, letting his thumb play lightly over the nipple, enjoying the way her flesh felt under his fingers. He then pinched the nipple and gave it a few twists as it became more erect before finally moving his mouth from hers and to the breast he'd been playing with. He took her in his mouth and swished his tongue over the nipple while his other hand started to work on his other breast. Still his hips moved, pumping in and out while his mouth started to give a light suck, while his tongue swished over it.


	15. Chapter 15

RaMinah's POV:  
     Those moments, before Khan found release... she felt it. The increase in his girth, the heat, how hard he was. It was incredible, head thrown back as he coaxed dozens of orgasms out of her. Small ones, but intense, giving chance for a few panting breaths at most before another moan signaled the arrival of another spike of pleasure.  
     Holding on, the pulses of warmth as he filled her womb, her mouth opened to his own, the kiss slow as his pace of his hips, faint whimpers. Oh this felt so very good. Gasping, the moan was lower, deeper as her back arched up into his hand, her clit twitching at the exact same moment in response, with each brush of his thumb. Oh.. what was he doing to her...  
     Khan's mouth on her breast had both hands cradling the back of his head, her own head thrown back, legs tight around his hips, muscles straining. Holding him close enough that he could feel that twitch, sounds and cries much deeper in timbre, as his pelvic bone began to rub on her mons, as he continued to thrust inside her.  
     It didn't take long, with such stimulation, something she'd never experienced before. Inarticulate cries, long groans as he stimulated her in different ways, it was no wonder she found release within only a minute or two. But the reaction! Khan had many lovers but had any been so responsive to his touch in the past?  
     The groaning growl came from deep within her chest, trying to curl around Khan, into a fetal position as the ploom of heat, expanded to her fingers and toes. Within, there began a steady clutch of muscles around Khan's length. Tighter than he thought possible, slicker, hotter, massaging, twitching, stroking him without either of them having to do, anything.  
     RaMinah had orgasmed... in two different ways. Ways, that so easily meshed together to create a creature of desire that was all his alone, mewling as a kitten as her body slumped, only her hands held on to his biceps again, moaning as his thrusts continued to keep the pleasure at a point she had become quite delirious, focused on nothing but him.

 

Khan's POV:  
     Khan loved the way she cradled his head, and the sounds she was making underneath him only pushed him further into pleasure. The twitches around his member, the wrapping of her legs around him, the long groans he pulled from her drove him mad with desire. How this woman could make him feel such a way was mind blowing. He had had many lovers in his life time but none of them had ever responded in such a fashion, none of them had ever cried and whimpered, moaned and arched as she did. He felt like he could drive her to the brink and she would want more from him. It was an amazing rush for him. And how tight she was around him was amazing, he had never thought a woman capable to causing such pleasure to him on this level. Warmth had spread throughout his entire body as she stroked him without touching him.   
     He could feel that on the edges of his bliss he was getting tired. How had this woman done that? His eyes caught hers his pleasure clear behind his gaze. He was unsure he would eve want another beneath him. He was certain no one on this planet could compare to what she did to him. Finally she slumped down, only able to hold onto his arms once again as the pleasure of it all coursed through her body. He was unsure when he had released her from his mouth but now he nuzzled her neck, giving it a final nip before he maneuvered them to be side by side. Warmth lingered under his skin as the realization of what they had done washed over him and a smirk pulled at his lips. He finally pulled out deciding that was enough for now, and he stretched out on the bed, letting his eyes close a moment and taking the time to breath.   
     Then he turned his head back to the woman next to him and smiled. Marcus would never try to claim her, he would make sure of that. That human was not worthy enough to even touch her. He did not  like the situation he was in, what with his family and all, but if this was something that was to be a regular thing between them... He smirked and turned towards her wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. She was his, and he was fairly certain she knew it. “The sounds you make are sinful little lioness.” He purred into her ear.

 

RaMinah's POV:  
     When Khan withdrew from her body, she couldn't stop herself, that small sound of disappointment as the pleasure stopped, her body forced to come back to itself, to the reality of all he'd done becoming a memory, though she ached for more. Panting heavily, shuddered breaths laced with soft whimpers, tongue wetting her lips as tremors coursed through her limp frame.  
     Drawn closer, elbows bent her face was tucked into Khans' throat, legs intertwined as lethargy began, a sensation of being so sated, replete that movement was nigh impossible. His comment made her smile. Lioness? That was a creature she'd never associated with herself, before.  
     "I don't remember making any sounds at all." No, all she could remember was how it felt, sensations that had overwhelmed her. "...will it always be like that?" If it was she understood the obsession people had with sex.  
     Thankful that she'd never been forced to commit such an act with Commander Marcus. Knowing that by doing so it would have broken her, utterly.

 

Khan's POV:  
     Khan snorted softly at her question but nodded his head. “Yes” He smirked and added, “but only with me.” He took a breath and let it out lightly. “I am after all the best.” He added in a playful whisper. He could feel sleep pulling at the edges of his mind. This had been such a pleasant feeling, had been so passionate, he didn't truly wish to give into sleep, for when they awoke who knew what it would be like between them, or how foul a mood Marcus would be in because of this. He ran his thumb in small circles on her skin as he thought over it all. But even he could not hold off the sleep that was taking over his mind. It had been a rather... emotional twenty-four hours. He sighed and relaxed down into the bed and finally gave into the demands of his body and drifted off to sleep.   
     His eyes popped open several hours later. He sat up in bed forgetting where he was and looked around the unfamiliar room. His heart was racing and there was a slight tremor to his hands. He had broken out in a cold sweat at some point and his breathing was shaky at best. He heard a soft breathing from beside him and he looked over his mind trying to piece reality back together. When he saw the doctor it finally clicked where he was and he tried to take a cleansing breath. By the creators what had gotten him so worked up? It had been something while he was dreaming... something had happened... he clicked his tongue in frustration. But he couldn't remember what it was that had gotten him so worked up.  One thing he knew for certain though, he was done sleeping for the night. He slipped out of bed attempting to not wake his partner as he did so. Partner... was that the right word? What even were they now?   
     He found his sleeping pants where they had been discarded on the floor and slipped them back on. He was tempted to try and slip out of the house, but after his disappearing act yesterday he was fairly certain that the people outside would not be down for him going out where he could out run them. So looked at the figure still in the bed and his thoughts drifted to what was to come. Well today could either be very good or very bad. He frowned and quietly left the room, closing the door behind him with a soft click.   
     He walked down stairs and into the kitchen with the intent to make himself some coffee. He looked around at the different appliances that were there,and almost smiled in relief as he found the coffee making one. It still looked like something he had operated before. Within no time he had coffee ground and in the machine. While that was going on though he decided to raid the kitchen and dug around in the fridge and found some of what he'd had yesterday with Jahan. He pulled it out and pulled out eating utensils. Now that he had the food in his hands he realized just how hungry he was. He didn't bother trying to heat it back up, his stomach demanding food right then and there. He found a fork and started to eat the leftovers pleased enough with the way it tasted. Even cold it was still delicious. By then the coffee was ready and he poured himself a cup, deciding to just have it black today. Then with food and coffee in hand he went out to the living room and sat down to eat and watch what ever news was on.


End file.
